Metal and Neon
by Ultra Rodimus
Summary: This is a crossover. A dimensional breach allows the Decepticons into Las Vegas. The neon city is about to be caught in the crossfire of an eons old war. Will the city survive the conflict? R and R please! Now COMPLETE!
1. Opening

Author's Note: This will be a crossover story between CSI and Transformers. This chapter will be on the Transformers side in order to set the tone of the story. This fic fits just after 'Cyber Stargate' in the Ultra Rodimus series. Some of the things mentioned in this story may confuse you until you read other stories in this series; I'll let you know which ones. Also, the title of this story is completely spontaneous. Don't ask me where it came from.

This story will have elements of slash in it. Pairings will be Ultra Rodimus/Magnus and Grissom/Nick. If you don't like that, you know what the 'back' button is for.

Disclaimer: I do not own either of the two shows being used in this story. The Transformers belong to Hasbro and CSI belongs to someone else. Ultra Rodimus and Falcon are my own characters, though.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 1: Opening**

Dimensions are funny things. Most people believe that dimensions are spherical, always staying the same size, coming very close to each other but never touching. That is wrong.

Dimensions are shapeless blobs, always expanding and contracting, never staying the same size or shape. There are times when they do touch each other, flow into each other and mingle. When such an event occurs, gates can open between the two realities. Unlike the "artificial" gateways, which are caused by powerful explosions rupturing the dimensional barrier and tend to open spectacularly, accompanied by high-pitched shrieking sounds and gale-force winds that pull anything nearby into them, these natural gates open silently and peacefully. Races with the technology and the knowledge can detect these ruptures and travel through them.

The robotic races of Cybertron had had extensive exposure to dimensional gateways, mostly of the artificial kind. Both had the technology to locate them. But only the Autobot race had true knowledge of what the breach really was. The Decepticons had only witnessed the ruptures from afar but had never travelled through them.

A monitor lit up. Something began to beep. A light on the console flashed, reflecting in the crimson optic visor of Soundwave, the Decepticon communications specialist and telepath. The dark blue Decepticon scanned the data displayed on the monitor, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Then the energy signature fell into place and he realized with a shock that he was reading a natural dimensional gateway. After a moment of stunned surprise, he rose from his chair and hurried toward Galvatron's throne room.

The insane purple Decepticon looked up as Soundwave entered, eeyes flashing with annoyance. "What is it now?" he demanded in a rather high-pitched voice.

"Sensors have detected a surge in unknown energy," Soundwave reported in his monotone voice.

"So what?" Galvatron sneered.

"I have identified the phenomenon as a dimensional rupture," Soundwave concluded.

Galvatron paused to register that. A crafty smile slid across his face, and something ugly flashed through his optics. A shudder ran down Soundwave's hydraulic lines.

"A hole between dimensions," Cyclonus mused, glancing toward Scourge. The Sweep leader shot him an unreadable look.

"Are the Autobots aware of it?" Scourge asked.

"Unknown."

Galvatron rose from his throne, his smile growing wider. "Gather the Decepticons! We will go through this hole and plunder that other dimension of all its energy!"

"Is that wise?" Scrapper asked. Galvatron ignored him.

"We will take enough energy to retake Cybertron and destroy the Autobots!" Galvatron crowed. "Summon everyone to the ships! We will go now!"

A few minutes later, the entire Decepticon army filled several large ships, muttering uneasily amongst themselves. None of them liked the plan at all. The last time they had been near a rupture between dimensions, many of them had ended up mowed down by the Autobot leader. None of them liked the idea of venturing into unknown territory after energy. At least the Autobots were a known hazard.

"Approaching the gate," Soundwave reported.

"Excellent!"

Ahead of them the gate itself was visible, a faint hole rimmed in pale blue, the edges rippling as if in a light breeze. Dozens of optics eyed it uncertainly. Galvatron cackled at the sight of it.

"Take us in!"

Ramjet swallowed nervously and complied. The lead ship nosed its way into the opening and vanished. One by one the others followed, until all of them had passed through.

Nearby drifted a small rogue asteroid. From it a set of optics watched the ships approach and pass through the opening. The watcher remained completely still while the ships passed his hiding place, waiting until well after they were gone before lifting off and swerving away.

The watcher was a smallish green robot shaped like a UFO. His name was Cosmos and he was an Autobot. Experience and observation had given him a clue as to what he had just seen, and that thought filled him with panic.

'_I have to get back to Cybertron! Prime has to hear about this!_'

With that thought foremost in his mind, the green Autobot streaked through space as fast as he could, heading back to Cybertron with his urgent report.

* * *

The speed with which Cosmos shot through Cybertron's thin atmosphere startled the crews stationed on the two rebuilt moonbases and sent other fliers scrambling madly to get out of his way. He dodged several larger ships, all the while keeping his course directly for Iacon. He knew that Ultra Rodimus had recently returned from Earth and hoped that he hadn't already left again. Fortunately, luck was with him. 

"He's down in Repair Bay," Sideswipe told him, pointing down the corridor. Cosmos thanked the red warrior and dashed off.

When Cosmos reached Medbay, the doors opened seconds before he would've slammed into them. He skidded through them and right into the middle of a discussion.

Kup, Jazz, Hot Spot, Scattershot, Ultra Magnus, and several others filled the main room, leaning against walls or standing in the open. Cosmos dodged his larger comrades, his vision starting to blur from the non-stop flight to Cybertron and running through Autobase to reach the Medbay. Something large loomed up in front of him. Cosmos slammed on the brakes, trying to stop, and lost his balance. He fell, landing right at the feet of the Autobot leader.

Ultra Rodimus, the Autobot Prime, was sitting on a medtable while First Aid ran scans on the new substance present in his circulatory fluids. He'd been explaining where the material, called naquedah, had come from when Cosmos had abruptly appeared. He reached down, lifting the smaller Autobot to his feet. Cosmos almost fell again, but managed to remain on his own two feet.

"F.A.?" Ultra Rodimus looked over his shoulder at the medic.

First Aid took his meaning and lifted Cosmos onto the end of the medtable while Perceptor fetched him some energon. Ultra Rodimus turned sideways, sitting cross-legged facing the scout.

"Sir-" Cosmos began.

Ultra Rodimus pointed to the energon. Cosmos nodded and paused to consume it.

"Please don't call me 'sir'," Ultra Rodimus told him. "Now, what was it that made you come in here as if you had a pack of ravenous cyber-wolves on your tail?"

Cosmos looked up, meeting Ultra Rodimus's curious gaze. The look in Cosmos's blue optics made the young Prime stiffen.

"I was scouting though the far edge of the sector when I detected an energy surge, one I couldn't identify. When I went to investigate I saw a hole in space, barely visible. I'd only been there a few minuts when the Decepticons appeared. They flew through the opening. I think it was a dimensional breach."

A deep rumble started somewhere in the vicinity of Ultra Rodimus's stomach. He got Cosmos's meaning. "They intend to plunder an innocent dimension for its energy."

The other Autobots stirred, muttering. Then Kup spoke up.

"We can't let 'em get away with this!" the old robot declared.

"No we can't." Ultra Rodimus rose from the table and turned toward Magnus, his second-in-command. The red and blue robot had already anticipated his command and had summoned all available Autobots to the shuttlebay.

The bay was crowded with Autobots when Ultra Rodimus strode in, his command staff behind him. All of them looked grim. The chatter stopped as the gathered Autobots sensed the severity of whatever had happened.

"A natural dimensional breach has opened," Ultra Rodimus announced bluntly. "The Decepticons detected it and went through with the intent of plundering an unsuspecting dimension for energy. We cannot let them succeed. So we're gonna go after them."

There was no argument. Autbots grabbed extra powerpacks for weapons and flowed onto the shuttles. Withing minutes a swarm of shuttles rose from Cybertron's surface and headed out into the blackness of space.

**To be continued...**

So, what do you think so far? If you want to read more of this story, you'll have to send me a review and let me know. There won't be any more chapters until I get some reviews for this one, so the sooner you review the sooner I'll update!


	2. Beginning

Author's Note: And here is the second chapter, from the CSI side. Thank you the readers for not biting my head off. 

Disclaimer: CSI does not belong to me. If it did I would be very rich, but alas... Be warned that I do not like Ecklie, so I'll probably wind up tormenting him at some point in this fic. 

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 2: Beginning**

Las Vegas, Nevada. City of neon lights, dreams, and hopes. A glowing oasis in the middle of the desert, ablaze with the neon lights of hotels, clubs, restaurants, and the huge casinos that lined the Strip. 

Gil Grissom, supervisor of the CSI graveyard shift, ignored the blaze of lights as he drove through the city toward CSI headquarters. His attention was on the street, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He was chewing on a problem that had been circulating through Vegas since the strange meteor shower several days before. 

Almost a week previously, the night sky had been ablaze with light from another source. A number of large fireballs had streaked through the sky, coming down in the mountains nearby. The military had swept the area, but had found no signs of the meteors or where they might have landed. Not long after that, the strange occurrences had begun. 

There had been reports of loud voices and huge silhouettes coming in from around the mountains. People had gone to investigate, but few ever returned and those who did come back told tales of evil red eyes glowing in the dark, huge shapes of solid steel moving through the canyons, deliberate cruelty and torture. Of those who vanished, no trace of them had been found. Then reports of vehicles driving themselves through the streets of the city had begun to pour in and showed no signs of stopping. The majority of them described a massive black and grey truck that mowed down anything in its path. 

Most of the LVPD laughed at those reports, saying that there was no such thing as a car that drove itself. Several of the dayshift CSIs had adopted the same attitude. Grissom himself was keeping his mind open to all possibilities, but even he was skeptical. 

As he paused at a red light, he casually glanced over at the car next to him. What he saw shocked him. 

Right next to him, waiting for the light to change, was a maroon Porsche 929 with windows tinted black. On its hood was a purple symbol that resembled a crowned, scowling face. Light reflecting off a nearby mirrored glass window allowed him to look into the vehicle. 

There was no driver. 

The driver's seat was empty. Suddenly, Grissom wondered if the reports could be true after all. 

The light turned green. As Grissom watched, the car shifted gears on its own and drove off with no one behind the wheel. Grissom stared after it until the car behind him honked its horn loudly, shocking him out of his trance. 

"Something on your mind?" Catherine Willows asked, catching up with him as he walked toward his office. 

He looked at her. "I'm just thinking about those reports we've been getting lately." 

"The ones about the self-driving cars?" Catherine snorted. "A lot of nonsense." 

"Maybe not," he responded. 

She eyed him. "What's this about?" 

"I..." He hesitated, then tried again. "I think I might have seen one." 

Catherine stared at him. 

"I stopped for a red light and happened to glance at the car next to me. It was a maroon Porsche 929 with a yellow stripe on its hood and a purple symbol. The windows were tinted. Light reflecting off a window let me see the interior. There was no one behind the wheel." 

The other CSI stared at him, but was spared a response by the arrival of another of their coworkers. 

Nick Stokes was a handsome young man with a reputation as a ladies man. Catherine, however, knew that Nick's reputation was only a facade. The young man and Grissom were a tight couple. 

"Heya, guys," Nick greeted cheerfully. 

"What's gotten you so chipper?" Catherine couldn't help asking. 

Nick grinned at her. "Finally cracked my case." 

"That was the man who was run over, right?" 

"Yeah. Turns out that he had a nasty grudge against one of his neighbors, a grudge that was apparently mutual. The vic ran over his neighbor's cat and the neighbor lost it. He knocked the vic out cold and ran him down." 

Catherine winced. "That's nasty." 

Nick nodded, then looked at his boss/lover. "You okay?" 

"He thinks he saw one of those driverless cars," Catherine jumped in before Grissom could speak. 

"You too?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Nick?" 

"I saw one too. A yellow drag racer with an open cockpit. No one behind the wheel, and it's driving down the side streets on the west side." 

Catherine stared at him. 

Captain Jim Brass from Homicide poked his head around the corner. "Come on, you guys. We've got a big one." 

Ten minutes later the entire team stood on the side of the road, staring in horror at the tangle of twisted metal that had been several cars and at least one SUV. All of them looked like they'd been run through a trash compactor. Blood was everywhere. 

"I think we're gonna be here for a while," Sara Sidle commented absently. 

"Half of you are," another cop corrected, coming out of his car. He looked more than a little green around the gills. "There's another body at the park..." 

"You look like you're gonna be sick," Warrick Brown told him, frowning. 

"Take a look at what I saw and see how well you can keep you lunch." 

Across the city, Grissom and Warrick stood over what had once been a human being. The man had apparently been jogging when he'd been attacked by something. Whatever it had been had torn him apart. 

"David?" Warrick asked. 

The younger of their two coroners looked up from where he crouched beside the body. "He's only been dead a few hours." 

"Cause of death?" 

"Severe mauling." 

"Is that the technical term?" 

David shot him a look and went back to work. 

"What kind of animal could do this?" Grissom asked. 

"From the tooth marks, it was about the size of a mountain lion." 

"These bites are too deep to have been made by a mountain lion." 

"And there are bits of metal in the wounds." 

"Metal?" Grissom peered at the shard. "Exactly what are we dealing with?" 

David shrugged. "That's up to you to find out." 

**To be continued...**

That's two chapters down and Primus only know how many more are still to come. Now send me a review and let me know what you think of this story. And here are the first reviewer responses: 

**Gromia: **Thanks. Know what I find funny? At the end of 'Cyber Stargate' I strapped a big plow onto Ultra Rodimus and made him clear snow from Metroplex, swearing harshly enough to strip paint from metal and nobody noticed! 

**Fenestrae: **Not this time, they aren't. And it has been a while. I was retyping 'Transformation' so I could post it on Lexicon, making changes both major and minor while I was at it. So I kept at that until I finished it and posted it. To date it's gotten 74 hits, but 'I Hate My Life' is still leading with 138 at last count. I hope you like this chapter! 

See you next chapter! 


	3. Meeting

Author's Note: Thanks to all those who read this and liked it. Here is the third chapter, and a warning that I might not get a chance to update again this week. It's a long weekend, and my grandfather doesn't have a computer.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or Transformers. The only characters I do own are Ultra Rodimus and Falcon.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 3: Meeting**

The Autobot shuttles descended through Earth's atmosphere far more discreetly than the Decepticons had, the pilots taking care not to let them be seen. They tracked the Decepticons' exhaust trail toward the United States, into a state Perceptor identified as Nevada. The trail led into the mountains near a rather distinctive city.

Ultra Rodimus crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't have to tell me which city this is. I can guess easily. Las Vegas."

"Those neon lights do tend to give it away," Silverbolt noted.

Spike Witwicky, standing beside the towering Autobot leader's leg, looked up at the young robot. "Ever been to Vegas?"

"No, never."

"We can't just barge in," Kup pointed out. "If what Perceptor's scans say is true, there are no Transformers in this universe. We need to lay low until we locate the Decepticons."

"That means someone has to go in and do some recon," Magnus finished.

"I've been to Vegas before," Spike announced. "I'll go."

"And I," Ultra Rodimus added.

"No gambling," Groove warned.

Ultra Rodimus turned an innocent look on the motorcycle Protectobot. "What makes you think I'd do such a thing?"

"'Cause you're the only one of us capable of becoming human at will."

The rest of the crew laughed. Ultra Rodimus looked mock-offended.

"Now we just need a ride," Spike mused, watching the young Prime morph from huge sentient robot to tall human.

"I'll take you," Jazz volunteered.

"Thanks, big guy."

Jazz transformed into his blue-striped white Porsche 926 form and opened his door to let his passengers in. Ultra Rodimus took the driver's seat, resting one hand on the wheel for appearances. Spike climbed into the passenger seat and looked over at the young Prime.

In his human form, Ultra Rodimus stood about six feet six inches in height, with golden skin and long silver hair. Emerald-green eyes stared out of a face women sighed over no matter which form he was in. He wore his long hair back in a ponytail. Sensing Spike's gaze, Ultra Rodimus glanced at him. The look of his eyes told the human that Ultra Rodimus hadn't gone fully human.

During the months since gaining the ability to turn human at will, Ultra Rodimus had learned to control the change. He could become fully human, remain partly organic and partly robotic, and even shrink his natural form down to human size. This time he'd chosen the 'cyborg' approach. He had the eyes of a robot. He could also control what his exo-armor turned into. Normally he went with a long-sleeved shirt and pants, but this time he'd chosen a sleeveless wide-necked shirt, shorts, and sandals. A band of cloth the same color as his skin wrapped his right forearm, hiding the skrill there from sight.

"Let's go," Spike said simply.

As they drove through the city, Jazz turned on his radio and tuned into the local radio stations, listening for any news. Ultra Rodimus's sharp eyes scanned their surroundings, ignoring the stares he got when people realized that his ears were pointed instead of rounded. Spike muffled a snicker. Then he noticed something.

"Jazz, pull over for a second."

The black and white Autobot complied. Spike got out and trotted into a convenience store to buy a newspaper. When he got back into the car, he showed Ultra Rodimus the front page.

"'Traffic accident kills seven, no suspects found,'" the Autobot leader read out. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the picture of the crushed vehicles. The pattern looked very familiar.

"And look at this." Spike turned the page. "'Jogger torn apart by unknown animal.'"

"I don't like the sound of this," Jazz commented.

"Nor do I." Ultra Rodimus read the rest of the article, then thought for a moment. "It says that metal was found in the wounds. I have a sneaking suspicion I may know what did that. I think it's time to get in touch with the local cops."

"I think we should talk to the crime scene investigators," Spike corrected. "We might get more out of them."

"Then let's go find them."

* * *

Evening barely lessened the heat of Las Vegas in the summer. Sweat rolled down Gil Grissom's face as he climbed out of his Tahoe and walked toward CSI HQ to begin his shift. Nick sped up a bit to catch up with him, falling into step beside him. 

"Has Greg managed to identify those metal fragments?" Grissom asked.

Nick shook his head. "No. He can't find a record of anything like them anywhere. It's as if the metal doesn't even exist to us yet."

Grissom looked at him oddly. "Then where could it have come from?"

"I might be able to answer that," a new voice said from behind.

Both CSIs turned toward the voice.

Not far away a white Porsche 926 with a blue stripe on its hood and roof and a red symbol shaped like a face on the hood was parked in an empty parking space. Next to it were two men, both unfamiliar to the two CSIs.

The shorter of the two had brown hair and brown eyes and wore well-worn work clothes. He had the look of a construction worker around him. But it was the other man who caught their eyes.

The taller of the two men had gold-colored skin and silver hair tied back into a ponytail. Intense green eyes watched them closely. His arms were crossed over his chest. He wore a sleeveless shirt and shorts colored grey and patterned with tiger stripes alternating red and blue in color.

"Pardon?" Grissom asked.

The green-eyed man sighed. "I said I might be able to tell you where that metal comes from, if you'll let me see it." He had a bass voice that went well with his size, and seemed to radiate the aura of authority.

Grissom weighed his options carefully, his streak of curiosity screaming for him to agree. He finally gave in and led the two inside.

"Who're they?" Sara asked, giving the two a once-over.

"Possible sources," Nick replied, opening the door to the Trace lab. He brought out one of the bits of metal and pulled out the test results. The silver-haired man read them carefully, then looked closely at the fragment.

"Well?" the brown-haired man asked.

The taller man straightened, spitting a word Grissom couldn't understand, but the tone alone told him that it had not been nice. Then he turned his intense stare back to Grissom.

"I need to see the wounds," he stated bluntly.

"For what purpose?"

"To see if my hunch is correct."

"We don't even know you two. Why should we trust you?"

The look in those green eyes was chilling. "Because if I'm right, Las Vegas and everyone in the city is in more danger than you could possibly know."

The brown-haired man took a step forward. "I think you should listen to him."

"Who are you two?"

"My name is Spike. Spike Witwicky. And his name is Ultra Rodimus."

The three CSIs and one lab tech shot the tall man a strange look. He responded with a glare.

Finally, Nick sighed and looked away. "Alright, fine. Come on. This is almost as strange as cars that drive themselves."

"What?" Ultra Rodimus looked at him suddenly.

"Yesterday I saw a car without a driver. Driving itself through the city. Grissom saw one too."

"What kind of cars?"

"I saw a yellow dragster, and Gris saw a maroon Porsche 929."

Ultra Rodimus's eyes widened. Spike grabbed the paper and scanned the article about the car crash.

"Roddy, this says that witnesses saw a black semi trailer with a grey tailer plow through those cars." Spike looked the other man in the eye, hands gripping the paper so hard his knuckles were white. "A black semi with purple-tinted windows and a purple symbol on the sides."

"Oh, no," Ultra Rodimus breathed.

"What?" Grissom asked.

"Show me those wounds. Now."

A few minutes later, the entire team of CSIs watched the tall man inspect the wounds.

"Four teeth," he murmured absently. "Extremely powerful jaw. And claw marks." He straightened, hissing another curse, then pulled something that looked like a communicator of some kind from a pocket. "Guys, we've got big trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" was the response.

"Spike and I are in at CSI HQ, looking at some of the evidence they collected from the mauling, and at the crash reports. The metal in the wounds is plate steel battle armor, Cybertronian manufacture, and the wounds on the body are consistent with a certain pest. Two of the CSIs saw driverless vehicles, and the witnesses to the crash saw a black semi with a gret trailer and purple windows."

There was the hiss of indrawn breath. "Which vehicles?"

"A yellow dragster and a maroon Porsche 929. Drag Strip and Dead End. And the truck was Motormaster. The Stunticons are loose in the city. And where the Stunticons are, the rest of them can't be very far away."

The person on the other end of the line swore. "And the 'certain pest' you mentioned?"

"Four fangs, metal skin, claws, and a bad attitude. It's Ravage."

"What do we do?"

"Have Steeljaw start tracking Ravage. Start at the scene and work outward from there. Spike and I will see if we can track one of the Stunticons."

"Will do. Out."

Ultra Rodimus put the communicator away and looked at Spike. "We've got work to do."

Detective Brass blocked their path. "Not until you give us some answers."

The duo were herded to an interrogation room. All five CSIs filtered in, lining up along the wall. Grissom and Brass sat at the table facing the two.

"You seem to know an awful lot about what's happening here," Brass commented, eyeballing the two. "So start talking. Tell us why you're here and how you know so much."

"You wouldn't understand," Ultra Rodimus growled.

"Try me."

Spike placed a hand on Ultra Rodimus's arm and shot him a look warning him to keep his temper, then turned back to Brass and Grissom. "It's complicated."

"We'll decide that. Spill it."

"Okay." Spike sighed. "Here's a question for you: do you believe in extraterrestrials?"

**To be continued...**

And there's another chapter down. As I mentioned before, this might be the last update this week. And here are the reviewer responses:

**Fenestrae: **I think everyone forgot to mention it. And yes, it was funny. A good blow to Ultra Roddy's dignity. And the retype of Transformation is on the Lexicon site. The address is www.lexicon.tf and when you go there, up in the right corner is a sort of search engine. Type the name of the fic into the search box and hit enter. When you first get to Lexicon, you'll probably have to hit Refresh. That'll make it work right. And thanks for the compliments!

**Gromia: **Computer troubles again? I hope it gets fixed soon. And I've been wondering why nobody noticed it myself.

**Simply Crisis: **You like it? Great! You know what I find odd? There are so many authors who like Transformers and other shows but never try to cross them. I think I'm the only person who dares to try and combine Transformers with other shows like CSI.

Until the next chapter!


	4. Convincing

Author's Note: To all my readers, I apologize for the long delay. Alas, I have essays up the wazoo and now evil exams are upon me. So you can blame the admin at Cape Breton University (why they changed the name from UCCB I'll never know) for keeping me away from keyboard.

Disclaimer: The only characters I own are Ultra Rodimus and Falcon. Everybody else belongs to somebody else.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 4: Convincing**

The question caught all six of the listeners by surprise. Ultra Rodimus snorted his amusement as they struggled to regain their senses. Spike waited patiently for an answer.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Warrick finally managed to ask.

"Everything," Ultra Rodimus answered evenly.

"Do you?" Spike insisted.

Brass looked sceptical. Sara and Warrick exchanged glances. Catherine's eyes narrowed. Nick said nothing.

"I try to keep an open mind," Grissom responded. "But I will not answer yes or no unless I have proof."

Ultra Rodimus tilted his head to reveal a very pointed ear, then opened his eyes as wide as possible, causing his pupils to narrow to thin vertical slits and proving that he wasn't wearing contact lenses. Stunned silence fell as the CSIs and the homicide detective stared at distinctly non-human traits. Finally, Ultra Rodimus unwrapped his right forearm to expose the creature perched on it.

The silence deepened.

Cautiously, Grissom raised his pencil and prodded tentatively at the creature. Falcon promptly lit up like a torch and hissed at him. Grissom was so shocked he leaped backward and ended up tipping his chair over. Nick let out a surprised yelp. Catherine jumped a foot straight up. Sara let out a startled screech. Warrick's legs almost gave way. Brass jumped right out of his chair.

Spike frowned at the glowing creature. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

Falcon chittered at him, managing to sound annoyed. Ultra Rodimus chuckled.

"He says 'how would you like being poked somewhere sensitive?'" the young Prime relayed. He ran gentle fingers down the skrill's back, stroking the creature. Falcon's glow faded, his hissing subsided, and he began to purr faintly.

"What on Earth is _that!_" Warrick demanded.

"A skrill. His name is Falcon."

"A... skrill?"

"Yes. A sentient life-form taken from its home planet and bio-engineered into a weapon. They draw nutrients from their hosts' bodies, and can discharge energy blasts powerful enough to completely vaporize their targets. Falcon attached himself to me about a year ago." Ultra Rodimus continued to stroke the purring skrill. "He and I are partners."

Grissom frowned. "You said that Falcon is sentient. How does it communicate?"

"Skrills are telepathic in a limited way. They can only talk to their hosts. Falcon can be quite a chatterbox at times."

Falcon made an affirmative chirp.

"He can also understand our speech, and is a very good judge of character. My theory is that they're limited empaths. When they don't like someone, they're usually right in their opinions of that person's character."

"And he's not from Earth." Nick leaned over for a closer look. "Looks like a cross between a scorpion and a mutated spider."

"I'm not from Earth either," Ultra Rodimus pointed out. "Nor are those who threaten this city."

That got them back on topic. Catherine looked at Spike. "Is that why you asked us if we believed in extraterrestrials?"

"Yes."

Brass resumed his seat, leaning forward. "You know who's causing those accidents? What mauled that jogger?"

"I do."

"Then spill it."

"Why didn't those cars have drivers?" Nick cut in.

"They don't need drivers. The vehicles themselves are sentient beings."

"They're _what!_"

"Sentient robotic creatures from out there." Ultra Rodimus waved a hand skyward. "They belong to a faction called Decepticons, and those vehicles form a subgroup known as the Stunticons."

"Sentient robots?" Warrick repeated.

Ultra Rodimus nodded.

"And you know this how?"

"Because I too am a sentient robot. I merely possess the ability to become human, or close, at will."

"You're a Decepticon too!"

"No!" Ultra Rodimus glared. "I belong to a faction called Autobots. We are enemies of the Decepticons. They seek only to destroy and conquer. We seek to protect. There is a very large difference between us and the Decepticons."

Sara looked at Spike. "Are you one of them too?"

"No, I'm a genuine human. I've been working with the Autobots since they came out of stasis in 1984."

"What?"

Spike sighed. "This is going to take some explaining."

He then proceeded to tell the six about the Cybertronian race, about their origins millions of years before humans had ever evolved, the wars that ravaged their planet, the crash on Earth, their awakening, how humans had encountered them, the various treaties between Earth and Cybertron, the horrific battle at Autobot City, the death of Optimus Prime, and Ultra Rodimus's ascension to power, describing Ultra Rodimus's rank as clearly as he could. His audience was silent as Spike explained the dimensional breach that had brought the two factions of Transformers to Las Vegas, and what the Decepticons were after.

"They have to be stopped before they destroy Vegas," Spike finished. "That's what Ultra Rodimus and his Autobots are here to do."

"Now we just have to find them," Nick pointed out.

Brass's cell phone rang. The detective answered it. After a moment he ended the call. "There's been another accident."

"Then let's get going." Ultra Rodimus stood.

Ten minutes later the team stood in the midst of a tangle of twisted metal, watching Ultra Rodimus scan an experienced eye over what had once been a loaded minivan and at least three cars full of passengers- teenagers on their way to a party. The Autobot growled.

"Motormaster," he snarled. Raising his head, he scanned the street. "He can't have gone far."

An engine snarled. Tires screeched. Onlookers scattered as a huge semi trailer, black with purple-tinted windows and dragging a grey trailer, appeared at the far end of the street and came barrelling right toward them. At the speed it was moving, they barely had enough time to get out of its way.

The CSIs and Spike promptly bolted for the sidewalk. Ultra Rodimus, on the other hand, stepped into the middle of the street, right in the oncoming semi's path. His green eyes blazed.

"Get out of the way!" Sara screamed.

The truck's horn blew furiously. Ultra Rodimus only bared his teeth. The Autobot leader raised his right arm...

**To be continued...**

Oooh, I'll bet you hate me for this one! Cliffie! And you'll have to wait until the next update to find out what happens!

**Iniora Nackatori: **Thank you for the compliment. I do somehow manage to write good crossovers. What puzzles me is that no one else seems to have the nerve to try and cross Transformers with anything else. I appear to be the only one who dares. Isn't that odd.

**Fenestrae: **He's used to being stared at in either form, so he's learned how to ignore it. The fact that he does have pointed ears (think Spock from Star Trek) earns him a lot of stares and more than a few dropped jaws.

**Gromia: **The sooner the better, eh? And yes, Ravage is the size of a normal cougar. If he was any bigger he wouldn't be able to fit inside Soundwave.

**Quillian: **Thank you for the compliments. And I don't write hard slash. I write mild slash, and more suggestive scenes than anything else; I leave it up to the readers' imaginations to fill in the blanks. If you're brave enough to want to know what my twisted mind is really capable of coming up with, go read y story 'Burning Skies'. I'd recommend you read it with caution if you have a weak stomach.

See you all again next chapter!


	5. Battle Plans

Author's Note: I just couldn't bring myself to draw out the torture of not letting you know what happens next. So here's the next chapter. This will be slightly easier to type once my hyperactive cat settles down, but I'll do what I can.

Disclaimer: I think you get the hint.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 5: Battle Plans**

"He's insane!" Catherine yelled.

Spike stared at the human Autobot. "He knows what he's doing. I think."

"Oh, that's really reassuring," Sara snapped sarcastically.

"He's somewhere over four million years old, has been fighting a civil war since he was old enough to hold a weapon, and has been leading an entire army for almost four years. Have some faith in him. He may be young, but he very rarely acts it."

Motormaster was almost on top of Ultra Rodimus. The Stunticon leader was less than half a block away when Falcon's abdomen lit up like a torch and the skrill discharged a massive energy blast. The very air rippled with the force.

The shot smashed right into Motormaster's grille, crumpling it like tin foil. Motormaster's cab jerked sideways, brakes locked. Sparks flew as the huge truck skidded out of control, smoke pouring from his engine. Then the back of his trailer jumped as his rear tires hit the curb, throwing his center of balance to hell and causing the entire rig to crash over onto its side. A parked car was batted aside as the truck skidded to a halt, leaving paint, chunks of torn metal, and a strange blue fluid behind on the pavement.

Ultra Rodimus put his hands on his hips. "Nice try, but no energon, Motorhead."

A growl came from somewhere inside the wrecked cab. "Watch your mouth!"

"Why should I? Last I checked you were down and smoking while I'm still unscathed. You lost this one, slag-eater."

The growl became a roar. The truck shuddered.

"He's trying to transform," Spike explained.

"He can try, but with his transformation circuits wrecked he won't get very far. Hope you know a good tow truck, loser."

"You'll regret this, Autobot! I swear you will!"

"I've heard that before. Remember what happened to Sixshot when he made a pass at me? Do you really want to end up like him?"

Motormaster growled something incoherent.

Another engine snarled. Everyone looked the other way to see a Ferrari 308 GTB with red-tinted windows speeding toward them. Ultra Rodimus's right arm came around to unleash another energy blast. The front end of the car crumpled as if it had smashed into a ten-ton boulder. The entire car was thrown off its wheels and flipped over. It landed on its roof and skidded, wheels still spinning.

"Hello, Wildrider," Ultra Rodimus said calmly.

"You!" the Stunticon spat.

"Yes." Ultra Rodimus glared at the three other cars sidling their way into the area. One was the familiar maroon Porsche. Another was a yellow dragster with an open cockpit. The third was a beige Lamborghini Countache with navy blue trim and black windows. Spike identified them as Dead End, Drag Strip, and Breakdown, the other three Stunticons. "So there you are. You might wanna find a tow truck for these two. And I've got a message for that insane psychopath you got for a leader."

"And what would that be?" the drag racer growled suspiciously.

"Tell him to leave while he still can. If he's foolish enough to stay, he won't like the consequences."

Breakdown's engine snarled. "We don't answer to you! We're not leaving until we've sucked this planet dry!"

"What's your answer to that?" Drag Strip taunted.

Ultra Rodimus's smile was cold. "My answer will be with axe and cannon. If you aren't going to leave on your own, then we'll just have to make you leave."

"We'll see about that!"

Just then, a group of lime-green and purple construction vehicles arrived. A crane carefully lifted Wildrider into the back of a waiting dump truck. It took several of the green vehicles working together to move the scrapped Motormaster. Once they were gone, Nick sidled over to Ultra Rodimus.

"Now what?"

Ultra Rodimus stared into the distance. "Now my Autobots begin planning and preparing for battle. Your part in this is over."

"I don't think so," Catherine contradicted. "This is our city."

"But this is our war," the white Porsche Ultra Rodimus and Spike had been driving spoke up suddenly. The CSIs stared at it.

"That's Jazz," Spike explained. "He's an Autobot."

"You humans don't have anything that can stand up to the Decepticons, and your guns won't even scratch a Cybertronian's paint," Jazz pointed out. "There's nothing you can do."

"We're not going away." Catherine folded her arms across her chest and glared at the vehicle.

Jazz only sighed.

Ultra Rodimus turned on his heel and walked back to Jazz. "We have to get back to the ships and start our preparations. We're running out of time."

Spike climbed into Jazz's passenger seat. Nick scrambled into the back seat. Ultra Rodimus glanced at him, then decided to ignore him. The other CSIs climbed into their own vehicles and followed the Autobots out into the desert.

"Where are we going?" Nick asked.

"To where my Autobots have set up base."

The parade of vehicles drove into a series of canyons. Out of the darkness looked a massive shape, the orange-colored hull of a Cybertronian battle cruiser. The humans gawked at the giant spacecraft, undeniable proof that the Autobots really were alien.

Inside the ship, the CSIs watched in shock as Ultra Rodimus morphed back to his true form, and gawked at the other Autobots. No two were exactly alike; even the two clones had some differences.

"Who are they?" a massive red and blue robot asked, pointing at the group.

"Crime scene investigators from the city. They decided to tag along." Ultra Rodimus walked deeper into the ship. "We chased out the Stunticons, and now we have to step up our preparations for battle. Galvatron knows we're here now. There's going to be a confrontation."

"We're already on it."

"Then let's hope we have enough time."

* * *

"Curse them!" Galvatron screeched after hearing the Stunticons' report. His optics were on fire with insane rage and bloodlust. 

"How did they know?" Scourge wondered.

"They must have had a scout in that sector," Onslaught commented. "The scout hid from us, reported back, and brought the entire Autobot army down on us."

"Now what?"

Galvatron spun to glare at Cyclonus, and his second-in-command shuddered. "Gather all the scouts here! As soon as Motormaster is repaired we attack!"

**To be continued...**

And there's another chapter down. How many more there are left, I have no idea. We'll just have to wait and see.

**Gromia: **No. When Ultra Roddy raises his right arm you gotta know Falcon's gonna come into play somehow. And congrats on finally getting your new equipment.

**Quillian: **You could say that.

See you all again next chapter!


	6. Going Public

Author's Note: I apologize for the delay, but, as I said before, it's exam time in college. I still have one exam to go before I'm all done. Thank you for your patience.

Disclaimer: If you don't know by now, you're hopeless.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 6: Going Public**

Gil Grissom sat on the huge briefing table with his team, his mind nearly on overload, staring at the creatures science and theory said simply could not exist. And yet they did. In that one place nearly a dozen had gathered, and they were just the command staff. The entire army numbered in the hundreds. He was still struggling to comprehend how such beings could have come into existence and survived for millions of years before humans had even been a tiny speck in the eye of Creation. He didn't know what to make of them.

His gaze fell on the tall robot seated at the head of the table. The first time he'd seen Ultra Rodimus the Autobot had been human. Despite what Spike had told them in the interrogation room Grissom had still doubted the existence of an alien race. Then he and his team had followed Ultra Rodimus and Spike back to their temporary base and had witnessed Ultra Rodimus's shift from six foot six inch human male to seventy-plus-foot sentient mech. His brain was still trying to refuse to believe what he had seen. But the proof was right there in front of him.

Ultra Rodimus was larger than the other Autobots seated around the table, making what Spike called "normal-sized" Autobots look small. He was more humanoid in build, instead of blocky or built in weird angles. Some of the others sported bright and sometimes clashing colors in strange patterns. Ultra Rodimus's dominant color was a silver-grey or smoke-grey, with tiger stripes in red and blue running down his spine, arms, and legs. His chestplate, a smooth, almost flat plate of metal, bore only the red insignia of the Autobots. He was quite slender and moved with the grace of a dancer. There was an aura of authority around him, encouraging even the most sceptical people to listen to him.

"You okay?" Nick asked quietly, startling him.

"Yeah," Grissom responded. "Just thinking. Trying to get my thoughts in order."

The other CSI nodded slightly. "You're not the only one who's having some trouble accepting the fact that there really is life out there."

Grissom nodded and returned his attention to the Autobots.

Currently there was an argument going on between three or four Autobots at the far end of the table. They were speaking in a strange, tonal language, clearly their own language. It was one more bit of proof that they were from another planet. The others around the table poked in a word or two every now and then, but the argument wasn't stopping.

Ultra Rodimus slammed a fist down on the table, putting a huge dent in it and making the humans jump. "SILENCE!"

All of a sudden it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. All of the Autobots turned to look at their leader, startled. He glared at them.

"Will you stop your bickering?" he snapped. "We are preparing for a war, not chattering about past skirmishes!"

There was some embarrassed muttering from the far end of the table, then silence.

"What are those humans doing here?" someone else asked. "They shouldn't be here!"

Catherine straightened, eyes flashing. "For your information, metalhead, this is _our _city, not yours. We know more about Las Vegas than you do. If you intend on doing _anything _in or around the city, we're in on it."

The Autobot stared at the human, actually cringing a bit, then glanced at his leader, who wasn't even trying to hide the grin on his face. The massive red and blue Autobot beside Ultra Rodimus snorted his amusement.

"Her I like," he commented.

Finally, after almost an hour, the details of the plan were hammered out. Then the talk turned to how to get curious natives and idiotic tourists out of the way.

"You have to go public," Grissom pointed out. "We might be able to help with that."

Warrick snorted. "Gris, you and the press mix like oil and water."

"I didn't say I'd do the talking," Grissom pointed out.

Ultra Rodimus rose from his chair. "Then we'd better get going."

Jazz was about to follow when Ultra Rodimus's comm beeped. It was Rewind, filling in for Blaster so that the communications specialist could be at the briefing.

"Steeljaw just called in to say that he found animal tracks," Rewind reported. "From a rhino."

"Headstrong!" someone hissed.

Ultra Rodimus swore, scooped up the CSIs, and hurried out of the ship.

"Headstrong?" Sara repeated.

"Predicon," the Autobot Prime answered, transforming into his tractor trailer mode and letting them climb into his cab. "Another Decepticon team. Where one is the rest can't be very far behind."

Driving as fast as he felt he could get away with, Ultra Rodimus headed back into the city. The sun was already up, the night shift over, when the CSIs finally returned to Las Vegas. Grissom pointed Ultra Rodimus toward where Chief Mobley was giving a press conference.

Ultra Rodimus parked out of sight and let them out. The humans headed toward the chief.

"Where the hell have you been?" Mobley demanded.

"Long story. But we need you to get all the tourists out of the city."

"Why?" The chief's eyes narrowed.

"Those reports of giant creatures are true. There's going to be trouble. We need to get as many people as we can out of the city."

Chief Mobley was about to scoff at him when the screaming began.

A massive red and orange bull, black horns lowered, steam blowing from its nose, was charging directly at them. Its metal hide glinted in the sun. Chunks of pavement tore up with every step. Its eyes glowed murderously.

"What the hell...!"

The bull was mere meters away when something blotted out the sun, lunging out of a side street with an ear-hurting roar. Humans scrambled backward, eyes bulging, staring up at the huge dinosaur as its immense bulk erupted out of a space that should have been far too small for it. Its huge head came down like a bolt of lightning, snatching the charging bull right off its hooves and heaving it into the air. A bluish liquid flowed down its sides from where the dinosaur's teeth had punctured its skin.

Legs sawing wildly at the air, the bull bellowed in pain and rage. The dinosaur, an allosaur, shook its head like a terrier shaking a rat, then whipped its head around and flung the bull four blocks away. The bull crashed heavily and suddenly turned into something else.

The bull had become a robotic creature. Its body was a mixture of red and black, with dots of yellow here and there. Its head was crested by the bull's horns. Snarling furiously, the creature climbed to its feet, pulling out a sword.

The allosaur changed shape, becoming a very humanoid but still very robotic creature, clearly male. He carried a huge battleaxe. Green eyes narrow and burning with internal fire, he watched the other robot.

The orange robot lunged.

There was a deafening clash of metal on metal as the huge axe flicked out to block the sword, then shoved the other back. Sparks flew. The silver robot expertly pulled his axe loose and brought it down in a stroke that cut deep into the orange robot's shoulder. The orange robot screamed and fired electricity. The silver robot leaped backward to avoid it.

"So you wanna play with lightning, do you?"

The axe vanished. Ultra Rodimus transformed to his bird mode.

His huge wings spanned more than 170 feet from tip to tip. Metal feathers covered his back and shoulders. Long, strangely flexible metal tailfeathers trailed out behind him. His long legs ended in long, sharp, deeply curved claws. He had the head and beak of an eagle, broader across the braincase, and more than a few new tricks up his wing.

Hovering above the buildings, he activated one of those new tricks and began pulling natural electric charge out of the air, concentrating it inside himself. His feathers crackled with it. Once he'd built up as much charge as he could without shorting himself out, he released it.

He exploded with lightning.

An immense, crackling bolt of raw electricity carrying almost a million volts speared down and hit the orange robot like a sledgehammer. The orange robot's limbs jerked wildly as the immense shock surged through its body. It was blown off the ground and hurled out of sight.

The electric storm dissipated. Ultra Rodimus returned to his robot form and landed gracefully. Turning, he looked down at the stunned crowd, optics fixing on Chief Mobley.

"They are telling the truth," he commented, pinning the human with his stare. "You are about to be caught in the middle of a very ancient war. If you want to limit casualties, get as many people out as you can. Once the fighting starts we'll be too busy to chaperone humans. So do us a favor and get out of here while you still can."

With that, he transformed to bird and rose into the air, wings creating a powerful gust of wind. Humans shielded their eyes from blowing dirt and sand. When they could see again, the giant robot was gone.

**To be continued...**

There. It took me two days to type this one. I'm finally finished exams, but there's no guarantee I'll be able to type more often.

**New Dye: **Thanks for the compliments. I hope you get the chance to read all of my more recent stories; the first ones I posted are kinda stupid. I look forward to hearing from you!

**Simply Crisis: **Their first encounter with alien life? They're questioning more than their sanity. Read on!

**Quillian: **Nope. Decepticon attacks beat gambling hands-down. Here's the next chapter!

**Jesus-freak: **Long story short, the Transformers are a race of giant sentient robots from a planet called Cybertron. There are 2 factions: Autobots and Decepticons. The Decepticons want to conquer and enslave. The Autobots want peace, but they still fight. They have to. They're on the verge of extinction. They protect other races from the Decepticons. You'll catch on. Eventually.

**Gromia: **Looks that way. I hope you're completely awake when you read this chapter!

You know the drill: if you want more chapters you have to send me reviews. Send nice reviews and I'll update as soon as I can!


	7. Rising Storm

Author's Note: I hadn't planned to get this updated this fast, but an e-mail from a new reader gave me some much-needed ideas. And since she actually _fed _that particular plot animal (I don't get plot bunnies, I get plot sharks, the kind that bite and don't let go), I decided to get rid of it now rather than let it get any bigger. 

Disclaimer: I think you get the hint. 

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 7: Rising Storm**

Once the news that real alien life-forms had arrived got out, the reaction was almost instantaneous. Many people were terrified and needed no urging to get out of the city as soon as possible. Others flocked to Vegas to get a look at the Autobots. There had been worries that the police and politicians wouldn't get enough people out in time. 

Fortunately, the Autobots themselves were used to that sort of attention and moved to help. Ultra Rodimus dispatched the Protectobot team to help get the extra humans out. Spike took over a TV news station and explained exactly what would happen if people kept coming in, including images taken from the Autobots' databanks. He assured everyone that the Autobots would try their very best to keep the Decepticons out of the city, but warned that there was still the potential for a lot of damage. That warning had triggered many families living along the outer edge of Las Vegas to pack up their children and their pets and get as far away as they could until the fighting was over. 

It soon became clear that Tantrum wasn't the only Predacon loose in the city. Headstrong and Divebomb had been forcibly evicted several times, and Ultra Rodimus had gotten into one nasty fight with Razorclaw. The Predacon leader's claws had left scratches in his paint but had done no serious damage; one had actually broken off after getting caught in the leg armor of Ultra Rodimus's dino mode. He'd taken to wearing it on a cord around his neck. The minor skirmishes had been fierce, and the damage left by stray laser blasts had gotten the point across to all but the most thick-headed. 

Several politicians had gotten the stupid idea that the presence of the Autobots would benefit their reelection campaigns and had approached Ultra Rodimus about it. The Autobot leader, however, had verbally flayed them alive for daring to suggest it. The Autobots were there to keep the Decepticons from draining energy from the planet and slaughtering the humans, not to help along some stupid official's chances at being reelected. Ultra Rodimus's steadily shortening temper and outspoken nature had swiftly shot down all of their grandiose plans. It also seemed that the young Prime had a very low tolerance for politicians. 

"Some of them really get under his skin," Magnus explained to Grissom when the CSI graveyard supervisor commented on that to him. "In our universe there's one bastard named Kinsey who's been at him and his predecessor since we made ourselves known to humanity. He hates Kinsey so much that if the bugger enters his presence again he'll probably get stepped on. Fortunately, he knows better. I think." 

"So Ultra Rodimus and politics don't mix." 

"I didn't say that. As Prime he's sort of a combination of general and president, and there's more than enough politics to go along with the position. Not to mention the paperwork. He's a skilled negotiator and diplomat, but some politicians just rub him the wrong way. Most of the ones we usually work with are smart enough to know how far they can go, but there are always one or two who are too stupid or too arrogant to notice when he's reaching the limits of how much he'll tolerate. Or they make too many demands for what he won't give. Once he decides he's had enough his temper shows itself. Most of the time it only takes one exposure to his temper to make most idiots back down." 

Grissom snorted. He'd been in Ultra Rodimus's makeshift office when the last politician had come in, and had watched the entire thing. He'd cultivated a healthy respect for the young Prime's bluntness. It was an attitude he could identify with. 

Greg Sanders stared at the metal fragments on the table in front of him. He'd heard that the fragments had been identified as Cybertronian, but he wanted to make sure for himself. Since Spike could usually be found in the area, Greg gathered up the fragments and went in search of him. 

Spike was nowhere to be found, much to his dismay. Then he wandered past the break room and found someone else sitting at the table, reading a datapad. 

Long silver hair tied back in a braid. Almond-shaped green eyes with slit pupils. Pointed ears. Gold skin. Alien creature on right forearm. Clothing smoke-grey with red and blue stripes. 

Ultra Rodimus. 

Greg stared. He'd heard that Ultra Rodimus was a metamorph, someone who could shift shape. He'd seen the Autobot leader's real form on TV, but he'd never seen his human form. 

As if he'd sensed Greg's presence, Ultra Rodimus looked up. His intense emerald eyes fixed onto the lab rat like laser beams. Greg suddenly understood why rabbits froze when hawks caught sight of them. Ultra Rodimus looked him over curiously, then relaxed slightly and waved him in. Obediently, Greg entered and sat at the table. 

Ultra Rodimus tilted his head, putting down the pad he'd been reading. "I don't recall having met you yet." 

"You haven't. I'm Greg. Greg Sanders." Greg offered a hand. The Autobot leader shook it. 

"You're one of the lab techs?" 

"Yes. I work the DNA lab." Greg placed the small container of metal fragments on the table. 

"And you're wondering what these are." 

"Yes." 

The Prime picked up the container. "It's an alloy made from a combination of metals. The base metal is unique to our world; we call it Cybertronium. Once it's been separated from the impurities it's mixed with other metals to make it stronger. We make our battle armor from it, as well as weapons and shields. These fragments are armor fragments. They broke off rom Ravage while he was mauling that jogger." 

"Ravage?" 

"Decepticon cassette cat." 

"A cassette?" 

"Ravage is a small robot, one of a group created by a Decepticon named Soundwave. His alternate form is a cassette tape. Soundwave himself turns into a hand-held tape player. His cassettes are used as spies and for information gathering. They also have very nasty attitudes. My guess is that Ravage was on a scouting mission when that jogger ran into him. That would explain why he was so badly mangled." 

Greg thought that over. "Nick told me that you said the Stunticons came as a team. Are all of the Decepticons like that?" 

"No. Most fight on their own. The teams don't always get along, but they have to work together because they're members of a gestalt." 

"Gestalt?" Greg frowned. "A... combiner?" 

"Exactly. Each member of the team becomes a different part of the whole. With the Stunticons, Motormaster becomes the main body while Dead End, Drag Strip, Breakdown, and Wildrider become the limbs. The combined gestalt is called Menasor." 

"Are there other teams that do the same thing?" 

"Unfortunately, yes. The Constructicons, Combaticons, Seacons, Terrorcons, Predacons, ad those are the Decepticons. I have three teams, the Aerialbots, Protectobots, and Technobots." 

"I saw on the news that you guys chased a giant shark-thing out of Lake Mead." 

"Overbite. One of the Seacons." 

Greg digested that. Then Ultra Rodimus's comlink beeped for attention. He growled softly and answered. "Yes?" 

"We've got trouble," was the response. 

"What else is new?" 

"It's worse, Prime. This time it's not one or two single 'Cons. It's the whole slagging army!" 

Ultra Rodimus erupted from his seat, snatched up his pad, and sprinted for the door. "Where are they heading?" 

"Right for the Air Force base!" 

"Head them off! I'm on my way!" 

"What's going on!" Greg yelled after him. 

Ultra Rodimus paused long enough to glance over his shoulder at him. "It's starting." 

Then he raced out of the building, leaving a very pale lab tech staring after him and hoping that the Decepticons never reached the city. 

**To be continued...**

There. I had enough time today to get this typed up and posted. I hope all of you like it. I may not get another chance to update for another few days. 

**Gromia: **I write fast because I have an active imagination, a twisted mind, and too may plot animals for my own good. I also watch CSI whenever I can, and I still watch Transformers. I hope those episodes give you some inspiration; sounds like you really need it. 

**New Dye: **I update whenever I get my claws on a computer with WordPerfect for any length of time. When I'd just stared posting fics I posted two or three on the same day. Yes, I got your e-mails, and I answered them. Hope you like this chapter. 

**Chiomon: **I'm glad you like it. I've been told that I'm really good with crossovers. Here's the update; is it quick enough? I try to update as fast as I can, but sometimes... 

Hope to hear from you all again next chapter! 


	8. Battle in the Desert

Author's Note: I'm sorry about the delay, but a friend of mine died last week and I went to his funeral. So I had no time to write this chapter until today. 

Disclaimer: See previous chapters. 

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 8: Battle in the Desert**

Gil Grissom stood outside the CSI headquarters, looking out over Las Vegas. The city had emptied of almost everyone; the only people left were those die-hards who wanted to protect their homes from looting, police officers, and military personnel. He'd never seen the city so quiet before, and had a hard time adjusting to the near-silence. 

A vehicle roared past. Grissom recognized it as one of the Autobots, a hyper bot named Chase. He was in an even greater hurry than usual. That meant something was up. Grissom fished the communicator he'd been given out of his pocket and contacted Spike. 

"What's going on?" 

"The Decepticons are moving!" Spike had to shout to be heard over the roaring engines and deep voices of the Autobots. "They're heading for the Air Force base!" 

A chill wound its way down Grissom's spine. The minor clashes with the Decepticon forces had been bad enough. Now those clashes were about to develop into all-out war. He hoped desperately that the fighting would stay away from the city. 

"The Autobots will do what they can, but there are no guarantees. The Decepticon leader is completely insane, so there's no telling what he might do. Ultra Rodimus does his best to anticipate Galvatron's moves, but he can't catch everything." 

Catherine darted across the street, another Autobot swerving in a squeal of brakes to avoid hitting her. The Autobot, one of the clones, the one named Fastlane, barely even slowed down, swerving neatly out of the way and then speeding off in an obviously practiced move. Catherine leaned against the side of the building to catch her breath for a moment, glaring after the Autobot. 

"Why are they all in such a hurry?" she asked. 

"The Decepticons are moving on Nellis," Grissom replied. 

"Oh. And who was that?" 

"Fastlane. One of the clones." 

She shot him a look. "You memorized the entire personnel list?" 

"I'd rather be able to tell who's who than mistake one for another." 

"Good point. What do we do?" 

"Stay out of the way. From what I've been told, the Decepticons have no problem with killing a human on a whim." 

"Ah." She vanished into the building. "Then it's a good thing this place has a basement." 

Grissom watched several more Autobots charge past, then followed.

* * *

Ultra Rodimus's engine roared as he increased speed again. Behind him, the other Autobots spread out into a V shape as the quicker ones came to the front and the not-so-fast ones dropped back. Magnus was keeping pace with his mate, but it wasn't easy. Ultra Rodimus was capable of a much higher ground speed than the others. The only reason he wasn't already out of sight was because he didn't want to plow right into the Decepticon army on his own. 

Magnus took a quick glance behind him, watching curiously as the slower Autobots separated into pairs, one behind the other, practically on the other's bumper. He wondered what they were doing. 

"Drafting," Bluestreak explained. "Like race drivers do. It helps both move faster." 

"Oh." Magnus turned his attention back to his mate. He considered asking Ultra Rodimus to slow down a bit, but from what he could sense through their lifebond it would be hopeless to try. 

The Air Force base appeared in front of them. So did the wave of Decepticons heading toward it. 

Ultra Rodimus let out a low growl. The others echoed it, but didn't speed up any more. If they did then they'd run the risk of overheating. 

Galvatron spotted them an instant later. With a scream of rage, he veered sideways and headed right for them, optics aflame with hate. Startled, the other Decepticons scrambled to follow. 

"Attack!" both leaders bellowed in unison. 

In seconds the desert was a war zone. Dozens of huge robots transformed into whatever mode they felt worked best and hurled themselves into the fray. The skies were full of planes from both factions, twisting around each other in a fierce air battle. Yellow and purple laser bolts flew in all directions, scorching armor, puncturing metal, shattering boulders, and leaving long, smouldering scars across the ground. Bits of metal fell like a strange rain, mixed with drops of dark blue Transformer blood. 

At Nellis Air Force Base, stunned humans crowded around monitors and the gates, watching in shock as two giant races met in a terrifying battle. The devastation being caused in the opening stages of the battle made it clear what both of those races were capable of doing. 

Ultra Rodimus twisted to avoid a shot from Ramjet, simultaneously lashing out with his battleaxe. He scored a hit on Dirge. The Decepticon jet fell back with a scream. Huge wings caught Ultra Rodimus's attention and he turned to see Mindwipe heading in his direction. Knowing that Mindwipe had the ability to hypnotize and control other Transformers, Ultra Rodimus roared his war cry and hurtled right at the bat Decepticon. Mindwipe saw him coming and tried to hypnotize him, but the attempt failed. The Decepticon only had time to scream before the Autobot leader's huge axe came crashing down, cleaving him in two. 

Galvatron screamed with rage. "Combiners attack!" 

The various members of the gestalt teams extricated themselves from the fighting and began the sequences of transformations that allowed them to merge into their various gestalt forms. The Autobots couldn't help noticing. 

"I don't think so!" Inferno took aim and began firing, peppering the half-formed Bruticus with laser fire. The gestalt shuddered under the barrage and fell apart, various components too damaged to combine. The other Autobots followed Inferno's example, but the other 'Con gestalts managed to complete their merges. 

"Aerialbots, Protectobots, Technobots, that's your cue!" Magnus yelled. 

"On it!" Hot Spot shouted back. "Groove, First Aid, Streetwise, Blades, let's do it!" 

The other Protectobots converged on their leader and began their own merge. Moments later, the blue, white, black, and red gestalt Defensor lunged straight at Abominus. The Terrorcon gestalt saw him at the last moment and barely managed to block Defensor's first blow. 

Next to show up was Superion, the Aerialbot gestalt. Since two of his components had an intense dislike for Motormaster, Superion promptly charged Menasor. The two were swiftly engaged in their own brawl. 

Devastator took a step forward, but found himself facing an old, powerful enemy. Ultra Rodimus hadn't had to tell Omega Supreme to attack; the huge Guardian robot held a deep hate for the Constructicons and went after them without needing any prompting. A flash of fear crossed Devastator's face moments before Omega Supreme slammed into him, howling with rage. The Constructicon gestalt had no choice but to try and defend himself against the rampaging Guardian. 

"So that's why Prime brought Omega," Crosshairs muttered to himself. 

"Yeah," Freeway grunted, shoving Octane away from him and into Springer's waiting attack. "Apparently Omega Supreme used to be the Guardian of Crystal City. The Constructicons lured him away from the city and destroyed it. Ever since Omega's been after them." 

"Oh." 

Buzzsaw, circling above, saw an opportunity and dove toward Magnus, wanting to sink his sharp beak into the Autobot Prime's mate. Unfortunately for him, he didn't go unnoticed. Ultra Rodimus saw him from the corner of his eye and launched himself into the air, snatching the unprepared cassette right out of the air. Buzzsaw caught a glimpse of Ultra Rodimus's face, twisted into a snarl of rage, and realized that he'd made a very big mistake. He had only a moment to ponder that thought and feel the resulting fear before he was thrown to the ground. The cassette was about to try and flee when Ultra Rodimus brought his foot down on top of him, crushing the cassette buzzard into the dirt. Magnus, hearing the sound of smashing metal, turned to see his mate viciously grinding what was left of Buzzsaw into useless scrap, his mind seething with rage. When he finally stepped back, all that remained was a small heap of twisted metal, crushed circuitry, and shattered components. It was clear that Buzzsaw was beyond all hope of repair. 

Soundwave screamed in agony, clutching his head and falling to his knees as he felt his 'child's' death. The shock surged through him and into his other cassettes. Ravage stumbled and fell. Rumble collapsed, twitching weakly. Frenzy staggered, whirling to stare back at his master. Laserbeak's wings folded involuntarily and he fell out of the sky, crashing hard and bouncing before winding up in an unconscious heap. Ratbat flailed wildly, crashing into Darkwing's nosecone and knocking him out of the sky. Overkill, the T-rex cassette, was distacted long enough for Grimlock to sink his teeth into the cassette and bite him almost in half. 

Galvatron looked to see where his combiners were. Menasor, Devatstor, Abominus, and Piranacon were occupied. Bruticus had been disabled before completing the merge. Then he saw Predaking stomping toward the battle and a cruel smile crossed his face. 

The battle was about to heat up. 

**To be continued...**

And there is the next chapter. Hope you like it. Send reviews and I'll see how soon I can get the next one up. 

**Fenestrae: **There you are. I was wondering if you were still around. Tantrum is a bull, not a rhino. And I'm glad you like CSI. It's one of my favorite shows. 

**Gromia: **Yeah, that does tend to put a damper on one's imagination. I hope you get that mental brawl straightened out before it drives you nuts, if it hasn't already. 

**New Dye: **Yeah, Galvy's getting more than a little peeved, but the real reason the Autobots win so many battles is because Galvatron himself is utterly insane and cannot adhere to any plan. He also beats up on his own troops. And I can assure you that I am no genius or pro writer; I can't write an essay to save my life. I just have a really active imagination and a tendency to daydream, incorporating ideas from books, movies, TV shows, etc, into the plot. I come up with some really odd plots that way. The number of chapters in a story depends on how many ideas I have for the story. I never know how many chapters a story will have; I just run with it until I run out of ideas, then end it. 'Cyber Stargate' has 15 chapters because I had enough ideas to write those chapters, but you can pretty much tell that my idea tank was running on empty when I reached the last chapter. As for the numbers of Autobots and Decepticons, I'm not really sure. The numbers vary. But the 'Cons have about 6 gestalt teams, two with 6 members, the other four with five members. Plus a whole lot of other warriors. Around a hundred 'Cons, give or take. Once I'm finished listing them I'll be able to give you a better count. There are even more Autobots. Cybertron's repairs will be slow and move from the inside out; there isn't much point in repairing the surface if there's nothing underneath to support it. And as for how Ultra Roddy and his 'Bots are gonna get the 'Cons back to their own dimension, you're gonna have to wait and see. 

**Chiomon: **Thanks. If Greg's Sideswipe, then Ecklie's Sunstreaker, only not as vain, but with an attitude that's just as bad. 

**Quillian: **You have the same opinion of politics as I do. Here's the first part of the battle. Hope you like it! 

Remember, reviews equals more chapters, so you know what to do! 


	9. Battle in the Desert Part 2

Author's Note: I do apologize for the long delay, but apparently my college year is not as over as I'd like. I have to write my English exam again, and I have 2 essays to finish. So updates will take a while. Also, there is now a dog in the family, a blond German shepherd named Chester, and he requires some attention. So again, I apologize.

If anyone here has read Foxey's story "Interviews with the Transformers", it's my pleasure to inform you that Foxey is going to do an interview with my character Ultra Rodimus. I will be keeping an eye open for that.

Disclaimer: You get the idea, right?

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 9: Battle in the Desert Part 2**

The people who had remained behind in Las Vegas when everyone else evacuated stood at their windows or in the streets, staring at the horizon. Bright flashes of yellow, purple, red, blue, and occasionally green light flared and faded across the hot desert sand. The wind carried the screaming of jet engines, the howling of laser weapons, the crashing of metal on metal, the rumbles of explosions, and the faint sounds of voices to the nearly empty city. The lights and the sounds had drawn the people out to watch and listen.

The Autobots had managed to lure the Decepticons away from the base and out into the open desert, where there was no one around to be hurt or killed by the savage fighting. The Decepticons' on and off appearances in Vegas had left a death toll of 136, most of them victims of Motormaster. No one had wanted that number to rise any higher. Everyone who'd wanted to leave had left, and the few who had stayed behind were doing their best to lay low and keep out of sight.

Nick Stokes leaned on the wall of CSI HQ, arms folded over his chest, watching the lights in the distance. He knew what those lights were, and he was very glad Ultra Rodimus had managed to lure the 'Cons into empty desert several miles away from both base and city.

"If it looks this bad from here, I really wouldn't want to be any closer," Catherine commented as she joined him.

"There's gonna be a lot of damage out there," Nick pointed out.

"I know. But it cold be worse."

He shot her a look. "How?"

"They could be right in the middle of the city."

Nick had to chuckle a bit. "Good point." Movement caught his eye, prompting him to turn and see what the source of the movement was. When he saw what was approaching the city, his eyes went very wide and every drop of color drained from his face.

"What?" Catherine asked sharply.

The other CSI raised a shaking hand and pointed. Catherine turned.

"Oh, my..."

Flying right toward the city was a huge Transformer, one so big it made Ultra Rodimus look small. Its armor was easy to spot, a mix of black, orange, red, and yellow in color, with some spots of grey. The Transformer had black and gold wings, and a lion's head adorned its chestplate. A pair of bull's horns capped its right knee, a rhino's horn its left. Both hands looked like they had claws growing from the backs, above the fingers. The giant carried a huge sword in one hand and had a massive cannon attached to its left arm. It was a terrible, menacing sight.

Catherine's shocked and horrified gaze noticed a spot of purple mixed in with the giant's bright colors. The giant was too far away for her to make out what that spot was, but she had a sinking suspicion that she knew exactly what it was, and she hoped to whatever deity was watching that she was wrong.

Grissom emerged from the building, saw them, frowned, and to turned to see what they were staring at. He froze, staring in horror. But unlike the other two, he'd read the Autobots' list of Decepticons and knew exactly who that giant was.

"Predaking," he breathed.

"Gris?" Nick whispered unsteadily.

"That's Predaking," their supervisor told them shakily. "A gestalt. A Decepticon combiner."

"Uh oh..."

"He's also nearly impervious to attack," Grissom added.

Nick snapped out of his paralysis. "I _so _did not need to hear that!" He grabbed Catherine and Grissom and dragged them inside, shouting for everyone to get into the basement. The group of TV reporters who'd parked themselves in the building caught Nick's panic and broadcast a warning, ordering everyone who was left to get out of the open. Then they left their cameras and followed the CSIs and the lab techs to the basement. They'd just made it when the shaking started.

Ultra Rodimus swore vilely as he watched Predaking take off. Galvatron's insane laughter only brought out worse swear words. The Autobot leader kicked his current opponent, Blast-Off, in the midsection, forcing him back long enough to take quick stock of his own forces. Unfortunately, none were in any position to do anything about the Predacon gestalt.

((You're the only one who can handle Predaking anyway!)) Magnus pointed out.

(I'm aware of that, but I'm rather busy here!) Ultra Rodimus shot back.

Blast-Off was about to lunge again when a missile hit him in the back and exploded. The already-damaged Combaticon was blown off his feet by the force, slamming down hard and remaining in an unmoving heap. Ultra Rodimus sent gratitude and apology to his mate, who forgave him but hinted that he could properly apologize in their private quarters later, and launched himself into the air, transforming to jet. His engines ignited with a thunderous roar, the shock wave swatting Decepticons left and right. As he blasted away in pursuit of Predaking, he used his wing to bat one of the Sweeps out of the sky and right into the all-to-eager hands of the Autobot the Sweep had been taunting. Bits and pieces of Sweep were flying in all directions as Ultra Rodimus cleared the air battle and hit full throttle.

He intercepted Predaking just outside the edge of the city, blasting low over Predaking's back and dropping below the speed of sound. The sonic shockwave swatted Predaking like a mosquito, sending him to the ground with a loud crash. A moment later the snarling gestalt was on his feet, firing wildly at his enemy. Ultra Rodimus dodged most of the shots, but some still hit, bouncing off his armor and not causing much damage. He spun around and flew straight at the furious combiner, transforming to serpent. Predaking took a step back as the huge snake hit the ground and moved with lightning speed. The impact threw Predaking backward.

Fortunately, that section of the city was completely empty of people, animals, and anything valuable, so only buildings were damaged when Predaking landed. The giant Predacon clawed at the rubble, managing to find leverage and get out of the way seconds before Ultra Rodimus struck. In an instant the serpent was coiled up for a new attack, hissing, fangs bared. Predaking dodged his head, but Ultra Rodimus's tail was another matter. It struck such a powerful blow that Predaking came apart. Five Predacons in animal form fell heavily to the ground. Ultra Rodimus transformed.

All five launched themselves at once, straight at him. He managed to transform to his dino mode seconds before they hit.

It was chaos.

All five were struggling to reach him, clawing and goring each other in the process. He was a snarling, snapping blur of claws and teeth, snapping and slashing at whoever came into his sights. Rampage opened fire with his shoulder-mounted guns, spraying laser fire every which way. Houses, trees, dumpsters, and the odd vehicle exploded into flames, casting a red glow over everything. By now royally pissed off, Ultra Rodimus twisted at an angle that should have been impossible for a dinosaur to pull off and caught Rampage in his teeth. He bit down as hard as he could, driving his teeth right through Rampage's armor. The Predacon tiger squalled in pain and applied his claws to Ultra Rodimus's armored head, scratching up his armor. Twisting his head, Rampage spotted a blazing green eye and flailed wildly in its direction. By sheer luck he managed to reach it, digging two claws into the socket and tearing the optic out.

Ultra Rodimus's head jerked back, snapping Rampage up and around with enough force to break the hydraulics in his back, paralyzing his rear legs. The half-crippled tiger went flying, landing well outside the city limits. Rampage struggled to get up, but his hind legs refused to work.

The Autobot leader screamed and shook his head, sending drops of dark blue blood flying. Pain and killing rage warred for dominance, the rage keeping the worst of the pain at bay, the pain tempering the rage, preventing him from going berserk and reducing the entire city to smouldering rubble. But even the pain couldn't completely dull the rage. Enough of the rage got through to make him want to destroy whoever or whatever crossed his path.

The Predacons obligingly provided a target.

Divebomb came diving out of the sky, hoping to hook his torn eye socket and rip open his armor. But he'd unknowingly dove with the sun behind him, casting a steadily-growing shadow. That shadow tipped Ultra Rodimus off. He whirled on one massive foot, and suddenly Divebomb found himself heading straight into Ultra Rodimus's open jaws. The eagle flapped desperately, but it was already too late. The Autobot leader snatched him right out of the air, crushing his wing, and hurled him head-first into a tree. Divebomb hit and crumpled.

Razorclaw bellowed in fury and pounced, keeping on the Prime's blind side. The Autobot leader swung around, trying to get the lion in his sights. His thick tail hit Razorclaw squarely in the ribs, flipping him into a burning dumpster. The Predacon leader roared and began clawing his way out, launching himself into the air and landing right on Ultra Rodimus's back.

The maneuvers Ultra Rodimus pulled off to try and dislodge him put even professional bucking rodeo bulls to shame. It was all Razorclaw could do to hold on, claws hooked into Ultra Rodimus's armor, too busy holding on to do anything else. It was just occurring to Razorclaw that he was in a very bad position when Ultra Rodimus threw himself sideways, slamming into another tree and using it to scrape the lion off. Razorclaw hit the ground, knocked senseless.

The pounding off hooves on pavement alerted Ultra Rodimus that Tantrum was charging him. Realizing that Tantrum was too close for a counterattack, Ultra Rodimus shifted his weight and extended one hind limb, grabbing Tantrum's head and gripping as hard as he could. Metal creaked loudly. The impact made Ultra Rodimus hop awkwardly backward to keep from falling over. The Predacon bull went to his knees, then fell heavily onto his side, limbs twitching. His motor controls had been severely damaged.

Ultra Rodimus got both legs under him and raised his head, looking for the fifth and last Predacon. A moment later, Headstrong crashed right into him, hitting him in the ribs. The young Autobot roared and staggered back. The rhino lost his footing and slid to his knees, stunned by the impact. Before he could clear his head and get back on his feet, a huge, clawed foot slammed down on his back, smashing him to the ground. Again and again Ultra Rodimus stamped down on Headstrong, bending his armor out of shape and putting pressure on his spine, which did the same job in Transformers as it did in humans. Finally, it proved too much, and Headstrong lost consciousness.

Ultra Rodimus comm beeped. He managed to answer it.

"The Decepticons are retreating!" Blaster reported.

"Drive them back to their ships," Ultra Rodimus ordered. "Send someone out to pick up the Predacons, get Inferno over here, and I need a medic."

"A medic?" There was surprise and concern in Blaster's voice. "Why?"

"Just... do it."

With that, Ultra Rodimus cut the link and dropped into a crouch, sitting where he could see all five of the Predacons, and waited for someone to arrive.

**To be continued...**

At least this chapter is longer than the previous two. I hope you like this one, 'cause I might not get another one posted for a couple of weeks. Sorry to have to tell you that, but that's just how it goes.

**Chiomon: **Of course they will. Would I let it end any other way?

**Gromia: **Nobody feels sorry for Buzzsaw. And I hope that helps with your writer's block.

**Fenestrae: **Going after Magnus is the mother of all bad ideas. Mess not with the mates of territorial Autobot leaders. Ultra Rodimus annoyed is a terrifying sight at the best of times, 'cause it usually means someone is about to get their head bitten off. And you can get shirts that say that?

**New Dye: **Yes, I got the card and thank you for sending it. Your question will be answered in the next chapter. No, he doesn't use those phrases; he considers them outdated and cliche. In Ultra Rodimus's universe, Jennifer built those weapons from a mix of human, Transformer, and alien technology. In the CSI universe Earth has no contact with alien races, so they don't have the tech to build weapons capable of harming a Transformer. And as for the military question, probably all of the above. Then they'd try to use the Transformers' technology for themselves and probably blow themselves to hell in the process.

Thank you all for your reviews. Now send me more and I'll try to get another chapter out soon!


	10. Aftermath

Author's Note: Ok, I know I said I might not update for a while, but I ended up sleeping in this morning and staying home another day. With all this free time on my hands I decided to get this chapter up before some of my reviewers spontaneously combust. But first I have to unload some off-topic weirdness:

Ultra Rodimus's Guaranteed Paranoia-Causer:

1) Rent a horror movie (suggested watching: The Ring, The Grudge, Nightmare on Elm Street, Fear Dot Com, Darkness, etc)

2) Find an old house (you know, the ones that make all kinds of interesting noises once all the lights go out)

3) Wait until the middle of the night, when all sane people are asleep

4) Watch the movie

5) Try to sleep

There, now that that's out of the way, on to the story!

Disclaimer: If you don't know it by now, then you have a short in your memory circuits.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 10: Aftermath**

The fires were nearly out when two Tahoes and a Taurus arrived at the scene of the battle. The CSIs and Detective Brass piled out of the vehicles and just stared.

The pavement was rent and torn. Chunks that had been ripped out were everywhere, even inside buildings. Long gouges, claw marks, dug several inches into the roads and ran for several feet. In other places entire footprints had been stamped into the roads. Impact craters from flying laser blasts created holes several feet deep and even more across. In at least one place the road had actually been torn to ribbons of stone and looked like it had gone through a wood chipper.

"Steel claws vs pavement," a stunned Warrick commented.

Sara shook herself. "Looks like the steel won."

The trees that hadn't caught fire had been splintered by some immense force slamming into them. One trunk actually bore the clear imprint of a beak and birdlike head. The trees that had caught fire had been quickly extinguished to keep the fire from spreading. For the same reason, all of the burning cars and dumpsters had been hauled out onto what was left of the street to be dealt with or left to burn out if they were too badly burned to save. The intact portions of street were filled with lines of charred and smoking vehicles needing some time in a repair shop and burned-out husks awaiting transport to the nearest junkyard.

"This must have been one hell of a fight," Brass noted, eyeing the lines of cars and garbage cans.

"I thought Ultra Rodimus knew better," Sara grumped.

"It wasn't Roddy," Bumblebee corrected as the small Autobot picked his way over to them. "He wasn't using any of his energy weapons. Rampage did this."

"Rampage?"

"One of the Predacons, a tiger. And a berserker when the mood strikes him. His tiger mode has shoulder-mounted laser guns. He cut loose with them and did all of this. That's why he was the first Predacon to be thrashed. Most of these claw marks and footprints are Ultra Rodimus's, though; out of all six combatants he was the only one big enough and heavy enough to do this kind of damage."

Nick turned from the vehicles to look up and down the rest of the street. A sigh escaped him.

Inferno had arrived in enough time to save most of the houses, but two or three had been completely gutted by the fire. Four Autobots were busy dismantling one of the gutted buildings, chasing down the hidden hot spots Inferno was finding. The building would have had to be destroyed anyway, but the Autobots were getting it done much faster and at no cost.

Grissom clapped Nick on the shoulder and looked back at Bumblebee. "It looks like you have things under control here. Nick and I are going to go see how Ultra Rodimus is."

Bumblebee nodded and made his way back to the other Autobots. Nick and Grissom climbed into their Tahoe and pulled away, heading out into the desert to where the Autobots had set up their base.

There wasn't much external activity around the Autobot ships. Most of the Autobots themselves were elsewhere, leaving the wounded with the shuttles.

Once the Decepticons had realized that they were being beaten badly, Galvatron had called for a retreat. The Autobots had driven them back to their ships, kept them there until all of the stragglers had been collected, and then chased them right off the planet. All of the flying Autobots had taken up pursuit, and many others had donned jet packs to join in. Most of the Autobot army had harried the Decepticons into space and back through the dimensional breach. Once through, the 'Cons had run with their proverbial (and in a few cases literal) tails between their legs. A few Autobots, including the Aerialbots, had remained near the breach to make sure that the 'Cons didn't try anything sneaky.

Most of the Autobots had suffered relatively minor wounds, mostly blast damage. Some bore injuries from close combat and edged weapons. A few had been wounded severely, and they were the ones in the makeshift repair bay, where Medic Alert and Perceptor were busy repairing them. First Aid, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"In there." Medic Alert raised one hand from Broadside's exposed innards long enough to point toward another door before returning to his task of repairing the badly-wounded triple changer.

"Thanks," Grissom told him, and Medic Alert gave an absent grunt in reply. Nick tugged on Grissom's arm. Both headed toward the indicated door, dodging the legs of various Autobots as they walked. The door slid open as they approached.

The other room was smaller than the main area, and most of it was occupied by a very large metal dinosaur. Several large packing crates had been pushed together to form a makeshift med table. Ultra Rodimus lay on top of the crates, hind legs bent, short arms stretched out, chin on the metal, shut down in repair mode. First Aid was hard at work.

Nick let out a low whistle as he regarded the marks left by claws and horns on the Autobot leader's metal hide. "I'd heard that he went five-on-one against animal Transformers, but now I believe it."

"How is he?" Grissom asked.

Magnus looked down at them. "Looks worse than it is, except for his eye. It's just fortunate that the eyes of his alternate modes are standard Transformer optics instead of eyes like those of his robot mode. These optics can be repaired, replaced, and rebuilt. But his robot mode's eyes, those are a whole different story. Not even First Aid could repair one of those; they're too complex even for him."

"But these he can fix?"

"Yeah."

"Is that what he's doing?" Nick asked.

"No. The original optic was completely destroyed. First Aid is rebuilding it from scratch, with some help from Spike."

"Spike?" Grissom frowned.

The big red and blue Autobot second-in-command nodded. "He and his father were the first humans to encounter us. Both were used to working with complex machinery; they worked on oil rigs for a living. Sparkplug's repair skills eventually gave Ratchet's a run for their money, and Spike is just as good. Since Spike, unlike First Aid, can fit into small spaces, he's doing the rebuilding of the eye socket itself and most of the small machinery so that First Aid can install the new optic. First Aid is building a new optic right now."

Nick looked up at the comatose Prime. "Can I see?"

Magnus reached down to pick the two humans up. From their higher vantage point they could see the eye socket, the armor around it removed so that repairs could be done, and the human climbing in and out of the open socket. Spike wore a special suit to protect himself from sharp metal and a special type of gas mask over his face.

"Why does he have to wear a mask?" Nick asked curiously.

"Fumes. Our blood, as you've noticed, smell a lot like gasoline, but the fumes are far more toxic. If he breathes in too much of the fumes, the toxins could eat his lungs from the inside out. And if he gets any of the blood in his eyes, it would blind him. So he has to be careful."

"At least, he does when he's working on Ultra Rodimus," First Aid chimed in, looking up from his work. "Our blood isn't nearly as toxic as his."

"Why not? Weren't you all built in relatively the same way?"

"Most of us were, but not him. Ultra Rodimus was not built by mortal, or even living, hands. Several years ago, he was Rodimus Prime. He was fatally wounded in battle, and he did die. But not completely. Our god, Primus, and the souls of our fallen comrades rebuilt him as who he is now. We had no part in his rebirth. I can safely say that no living Transformer could have designed and built such a complex creature. His systems are far more sophisticated than ours, and his blood has a completely different composition because of that."

"Not to mention a few things that have been added over the years," Magnus snorted. "He's got some of Falcon's fluids in him, plus the naquedah that was added a few months ago."

Grissom thought that over, then decided that the discussion was becoming too technical for him. "What will you do about the damage caused by your fighting?" he asked.

"We've already begun cleaning up," Magnus pointed out. "We don't have the materials to actually rebuild any of the houses, but over the years we've gathered enough human currency to pay for the materials and construction crews."

Nick blinked in surprise. "How did you guys manage to get human money?"

Magnus chuckled. "We have agreements with quite a few companies across Earth. We either sell them our technology, or they hybrid ours with theirs, sell it, and give us a share of the profits."

"Oh."

Something crackled, and a rather loud swear word drew Nick's attention back to Spike. The other human was shaking one hand, glaring at a clump of circuits.

"I think that's our cue to leave," he commented.

"But we'll be back to talk to Prime once he's been repaired," Grissom added.

"Fair enough." Magnus put them down. "I'll let you know when he's ready to talk with you."

"All right. We'll see you then."

**To be continued...**

And that is another one down. Yes, I know, this is a common title for after-the-battle chapters, but my imagination is running low on chapter titles that don't sound too silly. Just bear with me here. And I hope this chapter answers your question, New Dye!

**Gromia: **Thanks for the compliment, and yes it can. Argh, don't you just hate getting those now-you-have-it-now-you-don't ideas? That happens to me sometimes, and it never fails to drive me up the wall.

**Fenestrae: **No, I didn't blind him, but I couldn't let him emerge from that battle without a scratch. That would've made him into a Mary Sue, and that he most definitely _isn't. _The optic systems of his alternate modes have nothing to do with the optic systems of his robot mode and vice versa. And besides, it was just the optic, which can be removed for repairs and replaced when damaged beyond repair. And yes, the new dog is cute. He's got a dark muzzle, dark ears, and a dark stripe on his tail, four white feet, and a white tail tip. He's a dark blond that looks red when you look at him some ways.

Send me more juicy reviews and we'll see who fast I can update again!


	11. From the Author

**Author's Note**

I am so very sorry for the delay in updates, but I'm having a very difficult time getting near a computer in order to update. A few weeks ago I had to rewrite two essays and then rewrite my English exam, which monopolized more than three weeks of my time, and I've been staying with my grandfather for the last few weeks. He does not have a computer, and since he's always nagging at me to do stupid, menial chores that can easily wait for a while I find I have very little time to type. I have the next chapter half done, but since my mom neglected to tell me that she's going out to a different branch this afternoon I was unable to bring the disk I have the chapter saved on. Without that disk I can't finish the chapter or post it. I am trying, I really am, but please understand that I am having a difficult time getting near a computer. Please bear with me. The next chapter will be up as soon as the opportunity presents itself. Hopefully that will be sometime later in this week or next week. Please don't rip my head off for this. If you do that there won't be anyone to finish this story.

Because you've been so patient with me (relatively speaking) I'll try and get a short "teaser chapter" posted today. It will be very short, and I'll be trying not to damage my storyline. Thank you for not turning into werewolves/vampires/author-eating beasties and hunting me down.

Ultra Rodimus


	12. Interval Chapter

Author's Note: Here's the teaser chapter I promised. It will be very short, a kind of lead-in to Chapter 11. But it's all I can do right now; I have Chapter 11 half-finished and I can't really do anything until it's finished and posted. I will do my best to have it up within the next couple of weeks.

Disclaimer: You get the idea.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 10 ½: Interval**

After leaving the Autobot ship, Nick and Grissom drove up one of the winding trails leading up the side of the nearby cliffs until they found a place that overlooked the battlefield. Once there, they had to park the Tahoe and walk to the edge to get a look. What they saw stunned them.

The ground had been burned and scorched by weapons fire. In some places the heat had been so intense that the sand had been turned into lumpy, irregular black glass, like the fulgurites made by lightning strikes, only on a far larger scale. In other places it was churned and torn, gouged by the feet and alternate-mode appendages of the warring Transformers. Pools of a bluish fluid, almost black as it slowly soaked into the sand, were everywhere. Shards of metal from the warriors' armor lay scattered across the shattered ground. In some places were huge heaps of smouldering wreckage, what remained of those who had fallen under heavy fire. Most of those heaps were the remains of Decepticons. Two Autobots, their paint marred by scorch marks and fresh weld marks, were gathering up the remains of three Autobots who had been killed in the fighting.

Even the mountains had not been spared the Transformers' fury. The stone was blackened and seared, cracked and crazed, even melted in some places. In other places there were the deep craters made by missiles and the Cybertronian versions of grenades. One cliff face had been so heavily damaged it had collapsed, taking most of the mountainside with it when it fell.

Nick shuddered. "At least the bulk of the fighting took place out here. This makes what Ultra Rodimus and the Predicons did look like a toddler's snowball fight. If something like this had happened inside city limits..." He couldn't finish the thought.

His partner nodded, gripping his hand. The same thoughts had occurred to him as well. It was very clear how destructive the warring Cybertronians could be.

"I just hope it's over," was all Grissom could say.

Even as he said it, he has the sick feeling that it wasn't over. Some deep, forgotten instinct was telling him that what had already happened had been nothing but the chill breeze that came before the storm, and that something much worse was on its way. The hurricane hadn't yet come, but it was on its way and when it arrived, it would bring with it a force more terrible than anything Earth had yet seen, and it would leave its mark on those who survived its wrath for all time.

**To be continued...**

I'm not trying to tease you, but this is the best I can do until I get the disk that has the first part of Chapter 11 on it. It is my hope that this will hold you until I can get the next chapter finished and posted. Please accept my sincerest apologies for the delay. There wasn't much I could do about it.

**No name: **Who are you? And I said I'm sorry. This will have to do until I get a chance to finish typing the next chapter.

**Chiomon: **He'll bounce back. And I know the fight did end quickly, but I don't intend to finish it there. There will be more to this. Think of it as a strategic withdrawal.

**Gromia: **I don't think it occurred to anyone that Ultra Roddy's alternate modes have separate optical systems. Each mode uses its optic systems a different way, so he can't have a one-system-fits-all type of setup. Each mode has to have its own separate systems, and each is set up a different way, with different main functions. His dino mode's optics have enhanced depth perception and peripheral vision. His serpent mode's optics are mainly infra-red. His scorpion mode's optics are adjusted to see different densities, a necessity since that mode's a climber. He has to be sure that what he's climbing on can support his weight. And yes, chapter titles are quite hard to think of. I have more trouble than I should trying to think up decent titles for my chapters. Sometimes I spend more time staring at the screen trying to think of a title than I do actually writing the chapter. Isn't that pathetic?

**New Dye: **As for his optics, see above review response. His robot eyes are not repeat NOT the eyes of his dino mode. And Grissom wants to be sure the danger is past. Yes, Sara has an attitude, and she will get what's coming to her, trust me on that.

**Fenestrae: **I did see Amityville Horror. I liked it, but I wish they'd stuck to the original story. And when watching a horror movie, my sister recommends a large bucket/bowl/whatever of some edible material; stuffing your face while watching helps keep you from getting sucked into the movie. It works for me, anyway. Of course, then when I go to bed I pull up the covers until only my nose pokes out, but anyway... No, I didn't blind him. So don't worry. If you start crying you might short out your keyboard.

'Til next chapter!


	13. Suspicions

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, but I was unable to get near a computer since my last update. It wasn't my fault.

Disclaimer: You know the drill; don't own CSI or the Transformers.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 11: Suspicions**

"I'm done!" Spike Witwicky yelled, climbing out of Ultra Rodimus's eye socket. First Aid helped him off of Ultra Rodimus's heavy armor, then began the repairs that could only be done by an Autobot. Finally, he cut a piece of the crystalline material used for optics, colored green, and slid it into place. The color didn't exactly match Ultra Rodimus undamaged eye, but it was close enough to serve until they returned to Iacon.

Ultra Rodimus stirred, coming out of the repair coma he'd been in and lifting his head to blink at the medic.

"We're finished," First Aid told him.

"Thanks." The word was slightly slurred by the rows of sharp teeth lining Ultra Rodimus's jaws. The Autobot leader used the relatively short arms of his dino-mode to push himself up until he could get his feet on the floor and climb off the crates he'd used as a makeshift repair table. First Aid scooted back to avoid being swatted by his leader's strong tail.

Ultra Rodimus waited long enough to run a system check, then transformed to robot and looked at Magnus. First Aid muttered something to the city commander, who nodded and led his mate out of the room, toward the small side chamber serving as quarters and office.

"I do have to meet with Grissom again," Ultra Rodimus reminded Magnus as he was pushed down onto the Cybertronian-style couch and his mate stretched out beside him.

"I know, I know, but I never said I'd call them right away."

A day later, Grissom and Nick walked through the Autobot ship to the room Ultra Rodimus was using as his office. The door hissed open as they approached, admitting them into the small chamber.

Ultra Rodimus was on the couch, lying on his side in a loose coil, working his way through the datapads scattered across the surface of the low table in front of him. His armor had recently been polished, and the overhead lights sent darts of brilliance across its surface. A gold ribbon was wound around his left arm, part of what Spike called a ribbon device. According to Spike, only Ultra Rodimus could use the thing because he was the only Transformer with naquadah (whatever that was) in his system. The young Prime looked up at the two as the door slid closed.

"Hello again." Ultra Rodimus leaned back. "What can I do for you two?"

"We're here to get your opinion on something," Grissom answered.

The Autobot leader glanced up briefly as Magnus entered the room, leaning against the wall. "About what?"

"Threat assessment," Nick told him. "Is it safe for us to start letting the people back into the city?"

Magnus folded his arms across his massive chest. "It should be once we..."

"No," Ultra Rodimus interrupted.

His mate looked at him in surprise.

Ultra Rodimus steepled his fingers, pressing his fingertips against the bridge of his nose. His emerald eyes were serious. "Not yet."

"Why not?" Magnus asked, confused. "The Decepticons are gone."

"It was too easy," was the response.

"Too easy?" Magnus repeated. "You call that too easy?"

"Galvatron usually fights a lot harder than that. Nor does he usually give up so quickly. I think his departure was less of a retreat and more of a strategic withdrawal. He's up to something. I can feel it."

Grissom looked up at him. "So can I. Something terrible is coming."

The city commander looked from his mate to the human and back. Then he shrugged, trusting his lover's instincts. When Ultra Rodimus had a bad feeling about something, he was usually right.

"What do you want us to do?" he asked.

"Make sure everyone stays on their toes. Keep the breach under constant guard, and tell the watchbots to contact us if they detect anything strange. Get Crosshairs to begin recharging all expended powerpacks, and make sure everyone else cleans and preps their weapons. I'm not sure exactly what is coming, but I can safely say that it will be the fight of our lives." He thought for a moment. "I think it's time to call in the big guns."

"Omega Supreme is already here."

"I'm not talking about Omega Supreme."

Magnus's eyes widened as he felt what Ultra Rodimus meant through their lifebond. "The city-bots?"

"We may need them."

The red and blue bot nodded. "I'll call them in."

"Thank you."

Nick and Grissom watched Magnus leave, then glanced at each other. Finally, they looked back at Ultra Rodimus. "What do we do?"

"I think it's time to empty the city completely. Even those who don't want to leave must go. If my suspicions are correct, if they stay they will not survive the coming conflict."

"We'll see what we can do."

"You will have help," Ultra Rodimus promised.

"Then we'd better get started."

"We cannot go back!"

Cyclonus's protest fell on deaf audios. Galvatron was far beyond listening to anyone. He was burning with rage at having been defeated yet again by the Autobots. The need for energy and his hatred of the Autobot Prime had driven him into a state that nothing could penetrate. He wanted revenge.

"Give it up," Scourge advised. "He's not listening to you."

Cyclonus shot the Sweep leader a glare, then resumed his attempt to get Galvatron to refrain from throwing their depleted, severely mauled forces back into battle. As before, Galvatron didn't listen to a single word.

"My lord, please!" Cyclonus almost begged. "We were badly damaged by the Autobots; we do not have enough able-bodied warriors to take them on so soon! Please do not go through with these insane plans!"

Galvatron whipped around on one heel, his blazing ruby optics locking onto his second-in-command like targeting lasers. The look in his optics froze Cyclonus in his tracks.

"I will not stop!" Galvatron screamed at him. "We will return and we will crush the Autobots like insects! Now shut your mouth and rally my troops!"

Defeated, Cyclonus slunk out.

The Decepticon forces were not ready for another battle. But they had to obey or their leader would tear them apart with his own two hands. Reluctantly, they flowed out of the city and onto their ships.

The insane purple Decepticon turned to face the city. "Transform!"

For a moment, there was silence. Then the city itself stirred and began to move. Parts shifted and vanished, new parts appeared, and the city took on a new shape while Galvatron laughed insanely.

Huge optics glowed crimson in the darkness. The gargantuan shape threw back its head and let out a roar so loud the other Decepticons had to cover their audios to keep from being deafened.

Galvatron's optics burned with a feverish light as he gazed up at the gigantic silhouette. "Now, Decepticons, to battle!"

**To be continued...**

Now it's getting interesting again. I know I said I hoped to have this up within a week of my last update, but circumstances were against me and I was unable to keep my promise. But I finally managed to get it done. I hope you like it.

**Chiomon: **That is a good idea, but unfortunately I don't think it's one I'll be able to pull off. I'll see what I can do, but there are no guarantees.

**Gromia:** Yeah, there are lots of fics like that. And yes, Ultra Roddy shifts into each form differently. It involves shunting the majority of his robot form to subspace, keeping only his important systems and support structure, then replacing the rest with whatever alternate mode he's transforming into.

**Fenestrae: **Thank you for the compliments. No, I'm not dead. I was just stuck away from keyboard for too long. Sometimes summer break isn't what it's supposed to be. You're hooked on CSI? It's a good show. I watch it whenever it's on. And I can't wait for the new season to start.

Hope to hear from you all again soon!


	14. Threatening Storm

Author's Note: I do apologize for the delay, but I have been unable to get my claws on a computer so I could resume typing. I didn't mean to leave you all hanging, I really didn't.

On another note, please know that all given heights for various Transformers are guesses only; no one can actually make up their minds on how tall the Transformers really are. So if I give a height estimate for any Transformers in this fic, I am actually guessing at how tall they might be. So please don't chew my head off if my measurements disagree with yours.

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or the Transformers, but you already knew that.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 12: Threatening Storm**

With both Grissom and Ultra Rodimus having bad feelings that something terrible was on the horizon, both the human cops and the Autobots increased their drive to get all of the remaining humans out of the city. It wasn't easy. Many refused to leave their possessions behind.

"Possessions can be replaced!" Ultra Rodimus exploded, glaring at the humans. "Do you have a death wish!"

The humans eyed him.

"If you don't get your pathetic behinds _out _of this city, then you will perish in the next attack! You can replace the house and whatever is inside, but can you replace a life!"

That was enough to get that family moving. Fastlane escorted them out of Vegas, then turned around and came back. He met up with his leader on the way to dislodge another family.

"I will never understand the human attachment to some things," Ultra Rodimus muttered to himself on the way.

Catherine, riding in his cab, patted his dashboard. "It's very difficult to explain."

"I don't even want to know."

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

The dimensional breach was still far from closed. Ultra Rodimus had posted sentries around the opening to alert the other Autobots if the sensors detected any signs of Decepticon activity. So far, the sensors hadn't even blipped, and the sentries were getting bored.

"This is _so _boring," Fireflight complained, rubbing his optics and staring blankly at his monitor.

"It may be boring, but we were ordered to continue scanning," Silverbolt informed them. "Ultra Rodimus says something is coming."

"Ultra Rodimus is paranoid," Air Raid grumbled, leaning back in his chair.

The Aerialbot commander whirled around to face the F-15. "What did you say?"

"I said Ultra Rodimus is paranoid!" Air Raid shot back, glaring at him. "He had a _feeling _and now we're wasting our time scanning for nothing!"

Silverbolt looked like he was about to blow a few circuits, but he was spared from responding by Scattershot. The Technobot leader had taken one look at Silverbolt's face and decided to intervene before the two started throwing punches.

"Our leader is not paranoid," the red, white, and maroon Autobot interrupted. "He has had such feelings before, and never once has he been wrong. I trust his instincts. If he says something's coming, then something is coming and it is our job to find out what it is before it reaches Earth."

"And if I decide not to?" Air Raid sneered.

It was Skyfire who answered. "Then you will have to face both Ultra Magnus and Ultra Rodimus himself. If Ultra Rodimus doesn't thrash you so badly your armor will fall off in pieces for disobeying him, think of what his mate, who, if you'll recall, is the drill instructor and has a well-earned reputation as being a slave driver, will do to you."

Air Raid gulped and quickly returned to his work. Not even he wanted to risk Magnus's wrath. As drill instructor, Magnus outranked even Ultra Rodimus himself when he chose to enforce his rank. No one who ran afoul of Magnus wanted to repeat the experience. _Ever. _

For several more hours, the shuttle was quiet. Only the click of metal fingers on keyboards, the creaking of chairs as massive forms shifted position, the soft hum of electronics, and the occasional beep of a computer accepting an order broke the silence. Everyone was intent on his monitor and assigned sensor array. Even Air Raid.

Because Air Raid was the arrogant, snappish type who disobeyed orders when he felt like it, he had been on the receiving end of a great deal of punishment. Neither Ultra Rodimus nor Ultra Magnus had ever laid a hand on him, he had been exposed to his Prime's occasionally vicious temper and more than a few "special training" sessions from Magnus. Ultra Rodimus annoyed was intimidating enough, but when he was truly angry... it was a whole other league. When he was at his angriest, even the strongest bots trembled before him. It was rare to see him angry, but anyone who crossed him when he was in a bad mood was in for it. Air Raid had gotten on his bad side once, and just remembering it made him want to cringe. Since he never, _ever _wanted to be in that situation again, he decided that he should stick to his task.

The hours crept past. Every six hours, the shift changed, and the second crew took over while the first group rested. The shifts had changed twelve times when one of the consoles started to beep.

Everyone froze for a split second, then hurried over to look at the monitor. Two other banks of sensors were turned in that direction to try and gather more data.

An alarm went off.

"I told you he's never wrong!" Scattershot bolted for the comm unit. "This is Sensor One to base! Come in!"

"We read you, Sensor One," Blaster responded. "What's up?"

"This is no time for jokes, Blaster! I have to talk to Prime!"

"He's out, but hang on a sec and I'll patch you into his comm." Blaster didn't even wait for Scattershot to acknowledge. For a moment the line hissed with static.

"Prime here," Ultra Rodimus finally said. "What is it, Scattershot?"

"The 'Cons, sir! They're coming! And they have company!"

The young Autobot leader was all business. "How many?"

"Looks like twelve ships, all full, and... What the hell!"

"What!" Ultra Rodimus demanded.

"It's..."

Before he could get the warning out, the shuttle rocked violently. Sparks flew as consoles blew out. The comm line screamed with static, and Scattershot knew the comm antenna was gone. He lurched toward the intership comm unit.

"Get us the hell out of here!"

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Ultra Rodimus looked at his comm unit, hearing nothing but static. Then he looked at the other Autobots and at the humans.

"You have to leave _now!_" he yelled at them.

The urgency in his voice and the frantic call, as well as how suddenly it had been cut off, finally got through the humans' thick skulls. They scrambled for their vehicle and were gone in record time.

"There are still people here!" Sara yelled.

"We're out of time!" Magnus yelled back, eyes flashing sapphire.

"Look!" Springer pointed.

A wave of black dots were diving out of the sky, pouring out of the larger blotches of shuttles. The dots, each one an individual Decepticon warrior, swarmed toward them like enraged wasps. And behind them came something else, something huge, partially obscured by the rest of the Decepticon army.

"What is that!" Nick demanded.

The huge black shape landed somewhere just out of sight. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a titanic shape rose into view.

"No," Ultra Rodimus breathed.

The humans could only stare in utter shock as a form so massive it made even the towering Autobot leader look small loomed up over the city, every step making the very ground shake.

"What is that!" Warrick finally managed to force out.

"That" was a colossal robotic dinosaur, mainly black with spots of gold, green grey, and purple spotting its armored hide. Its head, limbs, and back bristled with weaponry. The purple Decepticon insignia dominated its chest. In height, the mechanical monstrosity was over 1000 feet tall. It let out a deafening roar.

"Trypticon!" Hot Spot gasped.

**To be continued...**

Cliffie! Ooh, I'll bet you're gonna hate me for this! But you're gonna have to wait until my next update, whenever that may be, to find out what happens next. So please don't come after me; if you do then there won't be any more story.

**Gromia: **Yeah, I know the feeling. Once you start you can't stop, and even when you take a break you're itching to get back at it. I'll try and save as much of Vegas as I can, but with Trypticon now on the field...

**Fenestrae: **If you must be hooked onto something, at least CSI and all its offshoots are good shows to be hooked on. And yes, there are evil computers out there. Didn't you hear the new saying? "I love my computer, but my computer hates me." So much for summer vacation... Yes, it's getting interesting again. Keep reading!

You know the drill. Review for more chapters. And I know you're out there. This fic has gotten 137 hits but only 44 reviews! Leave me a review, even if it's only one word long! Please!


	15. Hell Unleashed

Author's Note: I managed to get to my mom's computer today, so I decided to do another update before any of my readers spontaneously combust. So here is the next chapter of this story. I hope you like it.

Please do not ask where the title of this chapter came from. Because of the events that began in the last chapter, it seemed appropriate. Also, I know zip-all about the Headmasters series of Transformers, so if I mention any Head/Target/Powermasters or any other little subgroup, I will be referring to them before they became binary-bonded.

Disclaimer: You should know by now.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 13: Hell Unleashed**

Galvatron's eyes blazed with an insane, bloodthirsty fire as he led his troops directly toward the huge city, intending to wipe out the Autobots before stripping the planet of its energy. His twisted, ugly cackling was sending chills up and down his warriors' spines, making circulatory fluids run cold and nerve cables twist into kinks with fear. Even Cyclonus and Scourge eased back to put some distance between themselves and their insane commander.

Below they could see the ground shaking with every step Trypticon took, and some of them found the presence of the giant Decepticon rather comforting. The Autobots clearly had not brought Metroplex with them, so there was nothing to stand against their most powerful warrior.

"Attack!" Galvatron howled. "Destroy them all!"

The Decepticons dove.

The Autobots hadn't had time to complete their mission of convincing the remaining humans to leave, but the sight of that giant dinosaur, its body bristling with weapons and radiating an aura of evil given form, stomping toward Vegas was convincing enough. Every single one of the remaining humans, including the police officers, packed up what they could and fled. Even the CSIs left, chased out by several of the Autobots. Finally, Las Vegas was empty of all human life.

"We have to stop them from reaching the city!"

"Easier said than done!" Magnus barked. "Trypticon has no known weaknesses!"

"I didn't need to hear that, you idiot!" Springer moved out of earshot before Magnus could respond.

"Autobots attack!" Ultra Rodimus commanded.

With a war cry torn from three hundred throats, the Autobots surged forward to engage the enemy.

Trypticon's optics flashed. The behemoth let out a thunderous roar and fired the first shot, using his particle beam cannon. The Autobots scattered out of the way. The shot slammed straight into the city, carving a line of fire right through the residential areas and perilously close to downtown. It left behind a line of devastation, cutting a groove twelve feet deep and twenty feet across, everything within forty meters of the cut set ablaze by the very heat of the blast.

"We have to lead them away from the city!" Kup cried out.

"Tell me something I don't know!" Ultra Rodimus snapped.

The Autobots were about to swerve away and try to lead Trypticon out into the open desert when the Decepticons descended on them, preventing them from doing anything other than fight back. The Decepticons, coming from above, began the battle by bombarding the Autobots from the air, pounding them with laser fire. Not all of them actually hit any Autobots, but those that missed did just as much damage. The city was burning and the Autobots could do nothing to stop it.

When the two armies met, it was with the thunderous clash of metal on metal. Some combatants shot at each other. Others went hand-to-hand or using blades. Any unoccupied Autobots swarmed Trypticon, pouring weapons fire at the massive Decepticon. They were quick enough and small enough to dodge the lumbering giant's attempts to catch or shoot them, and succeeded in keeping him occupied with them instead of shooting up the city.

Ultra Rodimus was busy dealing with Spinister when he was jumped on from behind. Quick reflexes let him throw off his assailant before he got a good hold, kicking Spinister away long enough to get a look at his second opponent.

Razorclaw smiled at him coldly. "I'm back, and this time you won't be so lucky!"

He pounced.

Spinister waited until the two were already fighting before moving in to try and get Ultra Rodimus from behind. Before he could get close, he was shot from behind and turned to see Twin Twist looming over him. The volatile, destructive Autobot was aiming right at him.

"You dare to attempt to strike my leader while his back is turned," Twin Twist hissed at him, voice frigid. "I will not allow that. Now you will have to suffer the consequences!"

Magnus had been watching from the corner of his optic, worried that he would not be able to reach his mate in enough time to fend off Spinister's attack. After seeing Twin Twist in the vicinity, he relaxed slightly, knowing that Twin Twist would handle the Decepticon.

Twin Twist was one of the rare Autobots who had a wild, destructive nature. Optimus Prime had been unable to handle him at the best of times. In battle, Twin Twist would fight with an almost berserk rage, tearing apart anything and anyone in his path. Even off the battlefield he was dangerous, in the habit of showing off his destructive talents to anything he laid optics upon. His first action upon meeting Ultra Rodimus for the first time had been to sneer that a bot as slender and humanoid-looking as the new Prime was would be utterly useless in battle, unable to defend himself or withstand a single hit. Ultra Rodimus, instead of delivering a lecture or reprimand, had taken Twin Twist on in physical combat and had beaten the tail off him. No one would ever forget the sight of the berserker flat on his face on the ground, pinned beneath Ultra Rodimus's foot, and it never ceased to amaze anyone how thoroughly Twin Twist had been brought down a few pegs. Some time after that, it had become clear that Twin Twist was slightly less loyal to the Autobots as a whole and more loyal to Ultra Rodimus himself, serving as a sort of bodyguard on the field of battle, watching his back and keeping any opportunistic enemies from sneaking up on him.

Ultra Rodimus noticed Twin Twist grappling with Spinister and gave him a nod of gratitude. Even while struggling with the Decepticon, Twin Twist managed a bow from the waist in response. The young prime rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the steel claws raking at his face.

Another shot from Trypticon seared past, setting another swath of the city ablaze. It came so close the heat of it scorched Ultra Rodimus's armor, accidentally vaporizing Ruckus and Needlenose. Galvatron's scream of rage made Ultra Rodimus grin to himself.

The battle raged on, expanding as the warriors spread out, chasing each other down and engaging in heated firefights. The air was thick with smoke, the scent of burning metal and Transformer blood, the howl of missiles, the shriek of laser weapons, and the screams of the wounded, eerie counterparts to the battle cries and bellowed profanities. Trypticon was shooting in all directions, roaring out his frustrations at not being able to hit his tiny attackers. The gestalts were waging a savage war of their own, and Omega Supreme was in the process of pounding Devastator into the ground. The immediate parts of the city had been razed to the ground, and the nearest sections were either ablaze or in danger of catching fire.

A triumphant yell from somewhere nearby caught Ultra Rodimus's attention. Catching the Predacon leader in a chokehold, he ficked a glance in the direction the yell had come from. He saw Springer nearby, holding Octane down with his feet and one hand, his sword hand pointing skyward, sapphire optics aglow. Ultra Rodimus took a moment to slam a fist into Razorclaw's face before looking in the direction Springer was pointing.

Two huge shapes, one larger than the other, were descending rapidly, their hulls glowing red from the friction. They transformed before touching down, smoking from the heat of their passage, already pulling weapons and advancing toward the Decepticon giant. Of the two, one was mainly dark green and dark blue, with white on his torso and red on his limbs. The larger of the two was mainly white, marked with red and blue.

Metroplex and Fortress Maximus had arrived.

Trypticon saw them and spun, the Autobots who had harried him splitting off and rejoining their comrades in the main battle, leaving the giant dinosaur to the two giant Autobots. The two stopped a short distance (by their standards) away, in the desert. Trypticon, overwhelmed with fury, charged them, mouth open wide.

The battle had been joined.

**To be continued...**

I hope you like this chapter. The battle is heating up, and it's a long way from being over. Please don't spontaneously combust while waiting for the next chapter, which may be a while in coming, I'm sorry to say.

**Simply Crisis: **If you want more, you'll get more. There's still plenty of action to come.

**Fenestrae: **The Autobots will try to save as much of the city as they can, but with the fighting getting more intense, they can't promise anything. That is a good thought; I'll see if I can work it into the next chapter. Sure, you can tell me your idea. I'll see what I can do with it.

Send reviews and I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can!


	16. Inferno

Author's Note: Yes, I am still alive. And I just got my hands on a new resource: Transformers More Than Meets The Eye Official Guidebook Volume One (Volume Two is on its way) so I will be adding in more characters of both factions. There will be mixing of Pretenders, Micromasters, etc. Please note that this book does not contain the origins of the Pretenders or info on what their shells are for, so I still know next to nothing about them. They'll be in here anyway.

Disclaimer: The only characters I own are Ultra Rodimus and his skrill, Falcon. Everybody else belongs to somebody else. Oh, BTW, I am not repeat NOT making up the abilities of the ribbon device. Its powers are taken directly from one of the original Stargate novels. I'm not making up any of it.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 14: Inferno**

With Trypticon out of the city and occupied with the two giant Autobots, widespread damage to the city decreased somewhat. What had already been done was still ablaze, but no new sections of the city were being flattened by the giant's fire. Ultra Rodimus could put Trypticon out of his already overcrowded skull and concentrate on everything else.

"Everything else" took the form of Razorclaw, the Predacon leader. The robotic lion was doing his very best to tear the Autobot Prime to shreds of metal. So far Ultra Rodimus was keeping him off, but Razorclaw wasn't giving up. He was rearing up on his hind legs, front claws sawing wildly at the air, lubricants foaming around his jaws, snarling and snapping, his normal habit of remaining absolutely still until he saw the perfect opportinity thrown right out the proverbial window. Now he was acting like a wild, rabid beast, so infuriated by repeated defeats at the young Prime's hands that rational thinking and planning had gone to hell the instant he'd caught sight of Ultra Rodimus's distinctive striped armor. Ultra Rodimus had one hand planted against Razorclaw's chest, trying to push him away, the other attempting to get a grip on Razorclaw's snout to hold his snapping jaws shut. Hot breath smelling of burned metal blasted into his face.

"I need a little help here!" Ultra Rodimus bellowed.

((You could try asking me,)) a comment answered from within his own mind.

(Sorry, Falcon. Wrong arm. If I try to aim you he'll bite my arm off.)

((Then look at your left hand,)) the skrill replied.

Ultra Rodimus's eyes flicked to his left arm, seeing the glint of gold against his smoke-grey color. The Goa'uld hand device. A grin curved his lips. Then he focused as much as he could on the alien device.

The palm stone lit up with a brilliant red-orange light.For a moment it pulsed against Razorclaw's black chestplate. Then it unleashed a blast of energy that sent the lion flying. Razorclaw let out a yowl of confusion, clawing at the air as if trying to get a grip on it before crashing down hard on his side and rolling. He lay there, stunned, trying to get his breath back. Just as he was beginning to move again, Ultra Rodimus pounced. The young Autobot held his left hand over the metal lion's head, the palm stone of the ribbon device glowing red.

Major Carter had explained the device to him in some detail after that first Stargate mission, and he'd quickly mastered it. He'd been reluctant to use its more sinister side, but Colonel O'Neill had pointed out that in a war as savage at the Transformer civil war, the only rule was to get the enemy before he gets you.

The stone worked along the same relative lines as the Stargate, but instead of transporting and reassembling molecules across space, the ribbon device rearranged molecules. When applied long enough it could liquify a target or victim from the inside out.

Razorclaw's legs began to twitch uncontrollably. Ultra Rodimus gritted his teeth, hating what he was about to do, but he never got the chance to finish it. Instinct and some sixth sense told him that someone was attempting to sneak up on him from behind. In an instant he snapped his hand back and dove aside... just as a blur of white fur and grey metal shot through the space he'd occupied mere moments before. The blur slammed into the semi-conscious Razorclaw with enough force to knock the Predacon leader out cold. That stopped the blur long enough for Ultra Rodimus to get a good look at it.

The white blur was a huge wolf, pure white, with blue armor on its shoulders, grey metal plates on its back and chest, and a blue tail. The Autobot leader identified it as Carnivac, one of the newer arrivals to the Decepticon army, a Decepticon with a shell in which he could hide and fight.

_Just what I didn't need to deal with right now._

Before Carnivac could get the young Autobot back in his sights, Ultra Rodimus was on him, clenched fists slamming into the wolf's head. Carnivac's teeth snapped together on his own tongue, and the 'Con howled in pain. As fast as he could, he whipped around and pounced on Ultra Rodimus, slamming him to the ground, claws leaving long scratches in his paint, threatening to breach the first layer of his armor. The Autobot leader grunted as the wind was slammed out of him, then hissed as the wolf's jaws closed on his throat. Carnivac tried to bite down, but his victim's armor was too hard. So he settled for twisting, trying to rip Ultra Rodimus's head off.

"I don't think so!" A streak of red and yellow slammed into Carnivac's side, forcing him to let go and back off. The streak became Catilla, a massive gold and red puma. The two faced off, snarling, fur bristling.

"Why don't you mind your own business, cat!" Carnivac snarled, eyes blazing.

"You _are_ my business!" Catilla launched himself at his rival. At the same moment, Carnivac lunged. Both met in a whirling, spitting, snapping ball of fur and steel. Ultra Rodimus could only stare at them, until his mind caught up with events and forced him to get himself back on track. He was picking himself up off the ground, brushing off bits of the building he'd crashed into, when a feline roar became a scream of pain. Catilla flew backward, fluids pouing from one shoulder and the side of his neck. His shell was too badly damaged to open so he could get out, putting him out of the fight.

Carnivac howled his triumph and turned back toward his main target, Ultra Rodimus. But this time the Prime was ready. What Carnivac found himself facing was a massive serpent, a cobra, hood spread, optics glowing. He had only an instant to realize what was going on before the serpent struck.

The serpent's head struck out with incredible speed, smashing into Carnivac's side and flipping him into the air like a toy car tossed by a child. He reached the top of his arc and was on his way back down when Ultra Rodimus's coils shifted and his powerful tail came up. The blow sent the wailing Decepticon into and through one of the few multi-story buildings that hadn't been blown apart by the shooting. Carnivac hit the ground, twitched a few times, then went still.

Ultra Rodimus transformed back to robot, inspecting the gouges and scratches in his armor. His braid was coming apart. He panted slightly, catching his breath as he regarded the two unconscious Decepticons, then pulled a long dagger from subspace and advanced on them.

Fifteen minutes later he was done. Depositing his prizes in his subspace pocket, he put the dagger away, picked up his axe, and turned to see how the battle was faring.

Slowly, the Autobots were succeeding in pushing the Decepticons back, out of the city. Once the Autobots who had been hounding Trypticon had come back the Decepticons had become slightly outnumbered, and the Autobot fire trucks had been taking any free moments to deal with some of the raging fires surrounding them. As Ultra Rodimus watched, Inferno finished smothering the flames gutting a large apartment building. A few of the fliers were making runs over the flames, dropping the Cybertronian version of flame retardants onto them. In a few places the flames had gone out completely.

Underfoot the ground was shaking from the battle of the three giants, causing buildings to shudder and windows to crack. The more heavily damaged structures were beginning to collapse from the vibrations. Ultra Rodimus had to scramble aside to avoid being buried as the building Carnivac had gone through came crashing down.

Someone scurried over to him. Ultra Rodimus looked down to see a small green and tan bot with a very vague resemblance to Springer, but with tank treads attached to his shoulders, approaching. The bot, named Flak, stopped in front of him and saluted.

"Report," Ultra Rodimus told him.

"We are managing to drive the Decepticons out of the city, but they aren't going without a fight," Flak told him. "A dozen or more Autobots have been severely wounded, and one is not expected to survive. And—"

Flak never got to finish his report. The small bot was shot from behind and went flying, going limp. Ultra Rodimus leaped backward to catch him, simultaneously calling for someone to take the small bot to a medic. Seconds later Blurr appeared. Ultra Rodimus passed the badly wounded Autobot to the courier. Blurr gave him a grim nod and streaked away as the Autobot Prime turned to face the two Decepticons who had shot Flak.

"I don't know who you are," he snarled at them, "but you hurt one of my warriors and for that you will pay!"

The larger of the two, colored red and green with a yellow face and optics, laughed cruelly. "The name is Bludgeon, Autobot, and if you think you can take us on, then you're more than welcome to try."

**To be continued...**

I bet you really hate me right now. Another cliffhanger! And no idea when the next chapter will be coming out. Sorry!

**Fenestrae: **Yes, they've arrived, and they're at least keeping Trypticon occupied. Here's the new chapter for ya!

**Gromia: **They're only on one side of the city, not right in the middle. Most of it will be relatively unscarred. That one section is probably gonna wind up leveled, though.

Send me more reviews and you'll get more story!


	17. Slipped Leash

Author's Note: I do apologize for my long delay in updating this fic, but circumstances have been against me lately. The reason I am able to update now is that my class schedule at the college this year allows me some free time in which to write, a Wordpad program to write with, and an Internet connection with which to post. So my updates should increase in frequency now. At least, that's what I hope. BTW, the title of this chapter may not make sense at first, but it will later on in this chapter.

Thank you, Fenestrae, for alerting me to that stupid new rule came up with. It's possibly one of the dumbest things I've ever heard, and I hope they come to their senses soon. Reviewer responses are sometimes our only way to communicate with our readers; most anonymous reviewers don't give us their e-mail addresses, some signed reviewers don't have them, and those that do rarely, if ever, answer when we send them an e-mail (that means you, Gromia).

Disclaimer: Ultra Rodimus and Falcon belong to me. Everyone else belongs to someone else.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 15: Slipped Leash**

Ultra Rodimus glared at the two Decepticons, fury coiling in his gut. He knew who Bludgeon was; he'd have to be braindead not to. Everyone knew Bludgeon, last true master of the ancient martial art Metallikato and one of the most dangerous Decepticons to face in combat. Very few who faced Bludgeon, either in hand-to-hand combat or in a firefight, lived to tell the tale, and if they survived one encounter at all it was practically guaranteed they would not survive a second, the reason being that Bludgeon knew what to expect and how to take them down.

His eyes fixed on the second Decepticon. It took him a moment to identify him as Banzai-Tron, master of another ancient, nearly forgotten martial art, Crystalocution. While the two were rivals of a sort, they had been known to work together in order to take down an enemy. Separately they were dangerous enough; together they were even worse.

Both martial arts were so ancient very few practiced them, and even fewer remembered them. But those who did remember and practice them were extremely dangerous. Only someone who knew the arts, or something very similar, could counter them. While Ultra Rodimus knew neither art, he had been training in quite a few human martial arts since his rebirth, both in his true form and more recently in his human form, and Magnus had taught him what he knew of Diffusion, another ancient, but much more widely used, Cybertronian martial art. Taking into account the strength of his exo-armor, he gave himself a fairly good chance against them.

Reaching into his subspace pocket, he drew out what looked like a metal rod about as long as his forearm. The two Decepticons eyes it warily, correctly assuming it was some sort of weapon but not knowing what kind it was. Grinning wickedly at them, Ultra Rodimus depressed a stud on the grip and the weapon promptly extended to several times its original length, until it was a little taller than its wielder. Spinning it expertly, he leveled a challenging stare on the two.

The weapon was a force lance, a souvenir from a dimension jump when he'd still been Rodimus Prime. It was keyed to his DNA only; if anyone else tried to use it or even touch it, it would discharge a shock powerful enough to knock them unconscious. In its compact form it fired powerful energy bolts; in its extended form it was most useful as a quarterstaff. During his rebirth it had been slightly tampered with, enabling it to discharge a painful but mainly harmless shock into anything the business end struck. Hot Rod had been interested in the quarterstaff after seeing a few ond martial arts films, and Rodimus Prime had taken the opportunity to learn how to use it.

Bludgeon narrowed his optics at the tall Autobot. Most Autobots would turn tail and try to run from him, but the Prime was actually challenging him to battle. From Ultra Rodimus's stance, he was a martial artist himself, and might actually present a challenge.

"You are aware of my combat record, correct?" he sneered at the Autobot leader, hoping to scare him enough to make him an easier target.

Green eyes narrowed to slits, blazing with emerald fire. "I said that you would pay for wounding Flak, and I meant it." A slight tilt of the head. "Are you trying to delay the inevitable?" Ultra Rodimus purred mockingly. "Are you afraid of me?" His tone was taunting.

"I fear nothing!" Bludgeon snarled.

"Then shut up and fight!" Ultra Rodimus moved.

The two Decepticons were momentarily taken by surprise. Ultra Rodimus had given no indication of what he intended; one moment he was standing there and the next he was hurtling right at them, staff snaking out to slash at Banzai-Tron's legs. The smaller Decepticon jumped over the wicked blow, but didn't escape unscathed. The Autobot leader was fast; he corrected in an instant and sent Banzai-Tron flipping into the rubble.

The fight was on.

Bludgeon pulled out his energo-sword and lunged at Ultra Rodimus, only to be met with the butt end of the Autobot leader's staff. Their weapons locked with the scream of metal on metal. Fighting to regain his usual calm demeanor, Bludgeon tried using his internally-generated electric fireballs to disorient or weaken his opponent, but Ultra Rodimus somehow absorbed the charge without taking any visible damage. The tall Autobot shot him a quick grin, then released an electric shock of his own that sent the Decepticon stumbling back, twitching uncontrollably. Fortunately for Bludgeon, Banzai-Tron moved in before Ultra Rodimus could do anything else, using the bayonet on his gun as a sword. Ultra Rodimus turned to engage him. A moment later Bludgeon had thrown off the lingering effects of the shock and was again on the attack.

Ultra Rodimus turned into a whirlwind of motion, startling both Decepticons. They'd known he was fast, but they hadn't thought he was that fast. They quickly noticed that he could eventually copy their own moves, combining them with moves they recognized as being from Diffusion and another style they didn't recognize at all. The Autobot leader seemed able to shift between those styles randomly, throwing out unfamiliar moves to confuse his opponents. Finally Bludgeon guessed that the Prime was using something he'd learned on Earth, a style of martial arts no other Transformer knew.

Banzai-Tron was becoming very frustrated. His art, Crystalocution, concentrated on using a series of techniques to find an opponent's weak points so that they could be targeted. When performed correctly, a master of Crystalocution could shatter an opponent's armor by triggering pressure points in the armor's crystalline structure. But Ultra Rodimus seemed to have no such weak points. The structure of his armor was so stable that literally almost nothing could damage it while at the same time being able to bend and stretch with its wearer's movements. That both confused and infuriated Banzai-Tron. Finally there was so much built-up frustration and rage in him that he lost his cool and threw himself at the Autobot leader, letting out a roar of rage.

"No!" Bludgeon yelled.

The young Autobot saw him coming from the corner of one eye. He spun around, raising one leg to kick at him, but Banzai-Tron was coming too quickly. The result was that he slammed straight into the hard sole of Ultra Rodimus's snakeskin boot, causing the Prime to change his strategy and slam his foot down, driving Banzai-Tron four feet into the ground. The force of the impact combined with the towering Autobot's massive weight almost flattened Banzai-Tron's chest, causing him to shut down almost instantly.

Ultra Rodimus lifted his foot off the fallen Decepticon and was about to turn when Bludgeon's shield smashed into his back, denting his armor slightly and causing him to hop forward awkwardly in order to avoid falling over. Hearing the furious Decepticon charging at him, he struck out with a vicious back kick, forcing Bludgeon briefly to one knee and giving himself enough time to regain his balance. He was back on his feet and ready to engage Bludgeon again when his mind seemed to explode with pain.

His staff fell from suddenly numb fingers. Ultra Rodimus staggered, howling in agony, gripping the sides of his helmet, eyes flaring. The pain wasn't his, it was his mate's. His head turned blindly in his lover's direction, unable to see him but knowing that Magnus had just taken a close-range shot from Galvatron's plasma cannon. The shot had shattered his armor and burned deep into his circuitry, creating a massive crater in his abdomen. The wound wasn't as bad as the one that had killed Rodimus Prime, but it was close, and the horrible agony Magnus was in reflected down their lifebond to Ultra Rodimus.

That pain tore through Ultra Rodimus's spark, reaching even into the most guarded parts of his soul, waking a force far more dangerous than anything any of the Decepticons had ever seen before. For at the core of Ultra Rodimus's spark was a slumbering demon whose origins no one could discover, a berserk rage that Ultra Rodimus tried his hardest to restrain and control. It had only partially woken when Ultra Rodimus had killed the woman who had tortured him, but now it came fully awake as Ultra Rodimus's hold on it weakened, slipping its leash and surging forth to take control. But unlike the last time it had been fully awake, this time it had a target: anything bearing the Decepticon insignia.

Bludgeon couldn't figure out what had happened. One moment the Autobot leader had been moving to engage him again, the next he was gripping his head and screaming like a damned soul. The Decepticon froze, confused and startled, only able to stare as Ultra Rodimus staggered on his feet, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, keening wildly. What could have happened to make him react like that? He wasn't injured. The only thing Bludgeon could see was that Galvatron had shot Magnus...

Then it hit him. Magnus had been shot, but Ultra Rodimus was feeling the pain. There was only one thing Bludgeon knew of that could explain what was happening: a lifebond.

Realization hit him like a laser blast. Ultra Rodimus and Magnus were a lifebonded pair, sharing what could only be a very deep, powerful bond. The Bludgeon thought of the stories he'd heard, of lifebonded bots going berserk with rage and pain when their partners were badly wounded, and fear began to spread through him. Ultra Rodimus was powerful enough already, but the rage and pain would make him far more dangerous. Slowly, Bludgeon tried to sneak away, but the instant he moved Ultra Rodimus's head snapped toward him.

Bludgeon froze.

The Autobot leader's eyes were no longer green; they were red, redder than fresh blood, and the look in them was no longer sane. What Bludgeon saw was blind fury, the cold, merciless stare of a killer, and he knew he was facing the beast hidden in Ultra Rodimus's core.

Ultra Rodimus's lips drew back, revealing his teeth in a soundless snarl. Then he lunged.

With a scream of fear, Bludgeon tried to run, but Ultra Rodimus was on him before he'd taken four strides. The impact knocked Bludgeon off his feet, and he went sprawling face-first into the rubble. Pushing himself up, he turned... just in time to see a blur coming at him. Ultra Rodimus's foot cracked across his face with such force that the toe of his boot stamped the clear impression of the serpent's scales into Bludgeon's armor. The blow came from the side, snapping Bludgeon's head around hard enough to break the hydraulics and delicate circuits in his neck, but fortunately the fuel lines stretched far enough to keep from rupturing.

His neck broken, Bludgeon collapsed at Ultra Rodimus's feet.

His thoughts still clouded with rage and pain, Ultra Rodimus paid no attention to his fallen enemy. Stepping on the paralyzed Decepticon without even noticing him, he charged at the next Decepticon with a furious roar.

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Some hours later, a battered and bloodied Jazz stood on a small hill near the city, watching what was going on below. The Decepticons were gone and the wounded were being seen to. Anyone with any medical experience had been brought in to help with the injured. First Aid was not among them, though. The chief medic's attention was focussed solely on one robot: Ultra Magnus.

Jazz's thoughts wandered back to the final stages of that brutal battle. He'd seen Magnus go down, severely wounded, and then he'd heard a terrible shriek from another section of the battlefield. It hadn't taken long to realize just who that scream had come from; the answer had made itself clear in the most savage fashion. Ultra Rodimus had exploded through the middle of the fighting, eyes blazing a terrible red, tearing into any Decepticon unlucky enough to cross his path. His mate's agony had unleashed the berserker in his soul, and he was set on ripping the one who'd shot his companion apart. Unlike the last time he'd gone into a killing rage, this time Ultra Rodimus ignored the Autobots as if they didn't exist. The full brunt of his wrath had fallen squarely on the Decepticons.

After the shattered Decepticon army had finally fled, the question of how to get Ultra Rodimus back under control had been raised. Several tentative plans had been suggested, but none of them would work. Then Ultra Rodimus had neatly solved the problem by breaking down and collapsing in a heap. Kup said it was because his anger had burned itself out, taking his remaining strength along with it. The comatose Prime had been carried to Metroplex's Repair Bay and placed in Sandstorm's care. The pacifist had been cleaning crusted fluids off the young Prime's armor when Jazz had last looked in at them.

"How could one bot do all this?" Jazz wondered to himself.

"Nobody really understands how a lifebond works," Kup's gravelly voice said from beside Jazz, startling him. "Every pair reacts differently. I suspect that the bond between Magnus and Roddy is much stronger than we suspected. That would account for why he reacted so violently. If Magnus had been killed, Roddy would have destroyed everything around him and then himself." The old bot surveyed the scene below. "At least this time he showed some restraint."

Jazz looked at him incredulously. "Restraint? You call this restraint?"

"You didn't see what happened the first time he was in that state, lad. This time he didn't touch a single Autobot or raze the city to the ground. I'm not even sure he actually killed anyone this time. The first time he killed several hundred thousand innocent beings in a blind rage. He was so devastated by what he'd done that he tried to kill himself. Only the Matrix's interference stopped him."

The special operations officer shuddered. "I guess you're right." He changed the subject. "How's Magnus?"

"Stable. First Aid is working feverishly to repair his vital systems, but he's stable for the moment. If he makes it through surgery he should make a full recovery."

"And Roddy?"

"Comatose. Sandstorm's looking after him. He burned himself out with that last assault. It'll be days before he recovers all his strength."

Jazz nodded, watching Inferno, Hot Spot, Hosehead, Red Hot, and the team of Roadburner and Wheelblaze dealing with the fires while Hot House flew overhead, dropping his own loads of fire retardants on the flames. Other Autobots picked through the rubble to locate buried comrades. There was still much to do.

Kup touched Jazz's shoulder. "I'm gonna head back. You coming?"

"Not just yet."

The old Autobot nodded and then left Jazz alone.

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Hours later, First Aid looked up from his desk as a soft scraping sound reached his audios. It was coming from the recovery wing where Magnus and Ultra Rodimus, who'd woken up back in control of himself and had insisted on being near his mate, were. The medic sighed and got up to make sure neither of them were trying to sneak out.

As he entered the room, two pairs of optics turned to regard him, but neither pair belonged to the bots he'd expected. First Aid stopped to survey the room.

Magnus lay on the medtable, still in an induced coma to keep him from leaving before he was ready. Ultra Rodimus leaned back in a chair nearby, completely dead to the world. Someone, probably Sandstorm, had piled several crates behind him to form a makeshift table, and laying on top of it was Catilla, still in his shell, chin on his forepaws. The Autobot leader was using him as a pillow, head on Catilla's back, unbound and still damp silver hair flowing over his side. The feline Autobot regarded First Aid for a moment, then closed his eyes again.

Another scrape made First Aid look down to find the source. It was then that he noticed Chainclaw, another Autobot with a shell, this time a huge bear. Chainclaw lay on the floor, paws tucked under his body, his leader's feet resting on his back. The scraping sound had been Chainclaw crawling under Ultra Rodimus's legs and settling himself. Yellow optics watched the medic calmly.

First Aid blinked, then checked Magnus's vital signs and turned to leave. As he did so, he noticed the fluffy whiteness draped over the sleeping Prime's slender form and paused for a closer look. It took a moment for him to realize that the whiteness was actually the hide of an immense wolf.

"It's Carnivac's," a soft voice explained, and First Aid discovered Sandstorm sitting cross-legged by the wall.

"Carnivac's?" First Aid looked from the pacifist to the fur and back. "Taking trophies isn't like him."

"I know, but this time they really pissed him off. Frustration has been known to cause changes in a bot's standard operating procedures. Besides, he didn't kill any of his targets." Sandstorm indicated a small pile of other trophies: horns from Tantrum and Horri-Bull, the head armor of Razorclaw's lion mode, and a couple of others. "He got them off without damaging a circuit. They'll be back soon enough."

"What does he plan on doing with them?" First Aid indicated the trophies.

"I don't think he's decided yet, but I plan to mount them on the wall of his chambers. The wolf hide will probably become a rug."

"Ah." The Protectobot changed the subject. "How did you manage to get all the gunk off his armor?"

"He was unconscious, so I didn't have to work around his temper. Even if he had been awake I doubt he would have argued with me. He hates being covered in filth."

"I see." First Aid cast one more curious look at Chainclaw, who normally wasn't the most social of bots.

"He did that himself," Sandstorm told him. "Poked his head in, took one look at the room, and crawled right under. Startled me, too. He's the last bot I'd've expected to play footstool."

The medic moved in to run a quick check on his leader. Ultra Rodimus's energy levels were still low, but they were slowly climbing. He was deeply asleep, and First Aid doubted he'd wake any time soon. Smiling to himself behind his faceplate, First Aid adjusted the wolfskin slightly, dimmed the lights, and left the group alone.

**To be continued...**

And this is the next chapter. I hope to be able to update this fic more often thanks to the free time my course schedule allows. This chapter should answer your question, Fenestrae, and I hope you get that fic out of your head so it'll stop bugging you, Gromia.

Has anyone other than me noticed that the Decepticons in the RiD cartoon series are almost identical to the Combaticons? The only differences are in their names and colors. Movor is Blast Off, Armorhide is Brawl, Mega-Octane is Onslaught, Rollbar is Swindle, Ro-Tor is Vortex, and Ruination is Bruticus. Don't you think they could've come up with a more original team instead of repainting and renaming a G1 combiner?

Now send me some reviews and I'll type more story!


	18. Cleaning Up

Author's Note: I did say that this fic would be updated faster now that I have some free time on my hands, and I meant it. So I decided to get another chapter out now. Hopefully I'll be able to update quickly for a while, but there are no guarantees.

Disclaimer: I think you get the idea.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 16: Cleaning Up**

Word had gotten out that the Decepticons had fled and the battle was finally over. Most of the humans were still afraid of Decepticon attacks and stalled their return to the city. For the Autobots, the extra time was welcome.

Finally, Grissom and his team of CSIs had agreed to go back and see if the rumors were true. They could no longer see the flashes of laser fire or hear the sounds of battle on the wind. Cautiously, they piled into their Tahoes and headed back toward Las Vegas. When they were close to the city, they headed for a small ridge of mountains that offered a clear view of Vegas. They stopped there for a look before entering Vegas.

One large piece of the city was smouldering. Another had been almost completely leveled. A massive ditch had been gouged in the earth, running from the city's edge almost to the downtown area. Smoke curled lazily from its edges. The ground itself had been torn and gouged and burned. Huge craters dotted the landscape and pockmarked the mountains. The air reeked of burned metal and the gasoline-like stink of Transformer blood.

"I thought there'd be more damage," Catherine commented.

"There was," Nick told her. "Look."

The destroyed area of the city was a buzz of activity. Autobots were everywhere, most in vehicle mode. Huge bulldozers and the occasional backhoe were clearing the rubble. Others in robot mode shifted smaller piles or cleared sites. A few were even pouring foundations. In the middle of the organized chaos were Quickmix and Takedown, both of them having cement mixers as their alternate modes, barrels spinning ceaselessly. Both were surrounded by small swarms of Autobots, breaking large chunks of concrete into smaller pieces and tossing them into those churning barrels to be remixed. At least, one of the two was remixing cement. The other truck's barrel was smoking, but not in a bad way. The smoke was actually coming from the material he was producing, which looked a lot like lava. Then the humans realized that it was actually something else.

"He's mixing _metal?_" Warrick asked incredulously.

"I guess that those two are at least half chemist," Grissom noted. "And half blast furnace."

"Actually, their barrels are something like chem labs on wheels," a voice commented, and they turned to see another Autobot nearby. The Autobot grinned at them. "The chemicals in their barrels can break down and recombine just about anything. Even metals. Takedown is breaking down all of the metal from the collapsed buildings and mixing it into a stronger alloy so it can be used again. There isn't enough available from the wreckage alone, so a few others are raiding scrapyards for raw materials."

Catherine looked at Nick. "I see what you mean. There was more damage, but they cleaned it up."

Grissom tilted his head at the Autobot, a green and tan bot with what looked like tank treads on his shoulders. His body was covered with fresh weld marks. "I don't recall having met you."

"And I haven't met you yet." The Autobot, smaller than most other Autobots but not as small as Bumblebee, offered a hand. "My name's Flak."

"Gil Grissom." Grissom carefully shook Flak's hand.

"What's that?" Sara pointed at gleaming metal towers rising into the air some distance away from Vegas. Lights blinked on those towers, like the warning lights on radio towers.

"That one's Metroplex," Flak answered. "And just past him, a little further away, is Fortress Maximus. They arrived not long after the battle started to handle Trypticon. It was Trypticon who made that." He pointed at the deep cut in the ground. "Particle beam cannon. Fortunately, we were able to keep him from doing much more than that, and one those two arrived he was too busy fighting them to do anything else."

"How is Ultra Rodimus?" Grissom asked.

"Resting. He was running on fumes by the time the battle ended, and he collapsed once the Decepticons started running. He's awake, but he's not answering to anyone at the moment. Magnus was very seriously injured by Galvatron and his pain backlashed onto Prime. First Aid confined Prime to Repair Bay until Magnus is repaired."

"Ultra Rodimus can feel Magnus's pain?" Sara repeated.

Flak looked at her. "He can feel everyone's pain. He's a minor empath, able to read emotions but only the very strong ones unless he's in close proximity to the person he's reading. His range isn't very far, but it comes in handy. But he doesn't need empathy to read Magnus. Didn't he tell you? He and Magnus are lifebonded."

"Lifebonded?"

The small Autobot sighed and shifted position. "I'm not sure how to explain it. The best I can say is that they share a mental link that connects them to each other, a very powerful link. So powerful that their minds are merged into one. They think and feel as one. It can be creepy when they start finishing each other's sentences or answering to each other's names, though. Anyway, the link also affects them physically. When one is hurt, the other feels it. Experiences are shared between them. And the death of one will have a catastrophic effect on the other."

"How so?"

"Lifebonded pairs become one being, one mind with two personalitites. They complete each other. If one is killed, the other will go completely berserk, destroying everything between them and their mate's killers before destroying themselves. One cannot survive without the other." Flak sighed. "At least, that's my understanding of it. Lifebonds are rare. When Magnus was shot Ultra Rodimus went berserk. First Aid is keeping him under observation until Magnus is repaired to make certain he won't lose it again."

Grissom considered that, then decided that the conversation was getting too far into strange territory, even for someone who'd been introduced to the reality of alien life the hard way, and decided to change the subject. "Who is coordinating the cleanup?"

"At the moment, I'm not really sure. I think it might be Grapple. Most of the command staff are in for repairs or somewhere in the middle of all that down there."

"How do they know what to build?" a confused Sara asked.

Flak grinned. "We've been working alongside humans for years. We've built joint projects for both our races. So we know our way around human construction. But feel free to call in your construction crews and give us a hand. The work will get done that much faster."

Nick trotted a few feet away to make some calls. Soon Vegas construction crews were filtering in to help the Autobots clear debris and rebuild the buildings, taking advantage of Quickmix and Takedown's ability to mix just about anything for construction material.

As the rubble was cleared away, the laser scoring and blast craters it concealed were uncovered. Sara snarled something under her breath about Ultra Rodimus being careless with his weapons. Unfortunately, she was overheard by several Autobots and subjected to a mass dressing-down. She seemed to shrink in on herself as their anger at her remarks beat at her. By the time they finished with her and stalked away to cool their tempers, she'd been cut down a few pegs, her face flaming red with embarrassment and some shame. After that she made sure to keep her comments and opinions to herself.

Catherine looked around at the cityscape, noting the craters left by missile impacts, the burned and seared ground left by laser fire, and shuddered. "The damage that would have been caused if they'd been in the city center instead of on the outskirts is scary to contemplate," she commented to Spike, standing beside her.

Spike snorted. "You want scary? You should've been around the time that one of the kids in Metroplex decided to introduce the big guy to chocolate. And gave him too much. Ultra Rodimus on a sugar high."

She shot him a curious look. "He was in his human form?"

"At first. Then he somehow managed to get back into his robot form. Can you imagine a robot his size under the influence of way too much sugar?" Spike shuddered at the memory. "It took tranquilizer darts, Sureshot, and a sniper's rifle to hold him still long enough for the others to catch him. First Aid had to keep him sedated until the sugar was out of his system."

"That bad?"

"You've seen toddlers and little kids on sugar highs?" She nodded. "He's about a hundred times worse. A helluva lot bigger, very fast, incredibly strong, and, unfortunately, a lot more hyper."

Catherine stared at him, then burst out laughing. "Did he ever hear the end of it?" she managed.

"Astonishingly enough, nobody ever started anything about it. He's young, still only a teenager by Transformer standards, and the fact that he never acts his real age had been unnerving more than a few Autobots. That episode proved that he isn't perfect, that he does have his faults and that he slips sometimes, and they were able to relax around him. It only increased their respect for him."

"Usually seeing someone under the influence of sugar has the opposite effect."

"As I said, Ultra Rodimus is young. A certain amount of irresponsible behavior is expected, especially from a young Cybertronian. But Ultra Rodimus never did anything, and that made everyone a bit uneasy around him. It created the image of a perfect being, a creature with no flaws. Finally seeing him acting like the young idiot he should be shattered that image nicely, letting the rest of the Autobots see that their leader really is just a normal bot. He just learned to keep his feelings to himself."

The CSI chuckled. "Well, I hope I never see him acting that way."

"You won't. He swore never to repeat that incident, and he always keeps his word."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Magnus groaned softly as he sat up on the medtable, feeling newly-repaired systems complain about being forced to work so soon. His mate was hovering in the background, keeping out of the way but never keeping still. Ultra Rodimus stood near the wall, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, kneading the wolf pelt draped over his shoulder without even noticing he was doing so. His emerald eyes, looking quite a bit larger than normal, were fixed on his mate like iron filings to a magnet.

First Aid passed a scanner over Magnus and looked at the readings. "You're fully repaired and your energy levels are back to normal. You can return to your own quarters, but I want you to take it easy for a few days. Get some rest." The medic turned toward the pacifist standing as still as a statue nearby. "You make sure he does rest."

Sandstorm nodded. First Aid shot Magnus a _look, _then shooed him off the table. Ultra Rodimus materialized at his side, and the two left the room. The medic and the pacifist exchanged a few private words, then Sandstorm followed the other two toward their quarters.

As they walked through Metroplex's corridors toward their shared quarters, Magnus noticed the thick white fluff draped over his mate's shoulder and mentally asked about it. Ultra Rodimus's response came as an image of Carnivac and the memory of carefully confiscating it from the semi-conscious Decepticon. The fur had been removed so carefully not a single circuit had been damaged. Carnivac would be on the battlefield again, but perhaps losing his hide would warn him against trying to pounce on the Autobot leader. Magnus snickered.

In their quarters, Sandstorm took charge of the wolf hide while Ultra Rodimus led his mate into the inner chamber. Magnus let out a soft groan as he lowered his bulk onto their bed, noting distantly that the metal surface had been covered by a sort of "mattress" made of a specially-treated fabric as strong as steel and stuffed with either silicon pellets or silicon fiber "wool". It would comfortably absorb weight and support anything placed on it, and he sprawled out on it gratefully, closing his eyes and feeling as if he could sleep for a month.

The pad shifted slightly and a slender form curled into his side. Magnus opened his eyes and looked at his mate, who was tucked neatly into his side and using his shoulder as a pillow, as close as he could get without slipping inside Magnus's armor. The older bot regarded him with some amusement.

Sensing his gaze, Ultra Rodimus opened his eyes. "What?"

"First Aid told me to rest," Magnus reminded him.

Ultra Rodimus lifted his head, eyes turning a shade darker. "I'm not doing anything."

Since his mate had his inner thoughts shielded, not wanting his own worries to spill over, Magnus couldn't tell what he was thinking, but he'd been mated with the young leader long enough to know how his mind worked. He looked at his mate, letting the silence deepen. It was a tactic Ultra Rodimus had used on many misbehaving Autobots, humans, and aliens, but Magnus was the only one who could use it on him. That trick worked much better than prying, either active or passive.

The younger bot shifted uncomfortably. "I was told in no uncertain terms that I have to rest, too. My energy levels still haven't returned to normal, and I strained most of my circuits almost to the breaking point during the battle. And Kup told me that our lifebond was strained by the backlash from you to me; it'll take some quiet time and contact to let it heal. So I thought..." He glanced away, not meeting Magnus's eyes. "I'll go somewhere else..." He uncurled his long limbs and prepared to scurry away, find a different spot to settle and recover.

Magnus realized that he'd read his mate all wrong. Ultra Rodimus only wanted to be close to him; his nerves had been badly rattled by the near loss of his lifemate. He wasn't in the mood or the condition for anything else.

"No," Magnus said softly, catching his arm. "Don't go. Stay."

Ultra Rodimus eyed him uncertainly. Magnus touched his mind gently, apologizing, reassuring, confessing what his first impressions of his lover's presence had been. The young Prime blinked several times, then allowed himself to be tugged back down onto the bed. Magnus wrapped an arm around his companion's slender body, holding him close.

The younger of the two was the first to drift off into sleep. Magnus chuckled quietly, then kissed his lover's forehead, settled himself, and followed.

**To be continued...**

There's another chapter down. Thanks for the compliment, Gromia, and yes, I emailed you right after you sent me your first review, and yes, I sent it to the address I got from your profile page. But I never got an answer. Writer's block is a real pain in the diodes, ain't it?

Next chapter: how to deal with a hyper CSI, Ecklie's prankster-in-the-forensics-lab woes, and the return of Magnus's mischievious streak. Now that I've dropped some tidbits to make you even more curious, send me some reviews and I'll get the next chapter out as soon as I can.


	19. Relaxing

Author's Note: The events that will occur in this chapter had been decided on not long after I started writing this fic. This will be a somewhat more humorous chapter. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I think you get the idea.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 17: Relaxing**

Several weeks had passed since the final battle had taken place in Las Vegas. With the help of the Autobots the destroyed office buildings and large structures near downtown had been rebuilt. After the human construction crews had brought in their own people and equipment, work had gone much faster. Grapple had been able to pull Quickmix out of the business districts and send him out to the residential areas. Once he'd arrived there the Autobots handling the cleanup had promptly begun pitching any and all bits of wood, from the broken and burned remains of houses to fallen trees, into his churning barrel, much to the surprise of their human counterparts. Quickmix had worked the load around in his barrel for a time before producing a pulp-like substance, pouring it into molds Hoist had built. The pulpy material was actually of loose wood fibers, fibers that were pressed into shape and formed into panels and beams much the same way pulp was made into paper. The finished products were practically indistinguishable from timbers from the lumber yards. Quickmix, asked about it, had rattled off the list of chemicals he used to break down and mix wood, making more than a few humans' heads spin. The scientists had gone home happy; everyone else was happy that the work was going so much quicker with Quickmix's help.

Ultra Rodimus had been working practically non-stop since finally recovering from energy drain, somehow managing to juggle human politicians and his own Autobots. He'd been spending most of his time in his office, working his way through massive stacks of paperwork, returning to his quarters late at night, so tired all he could do was collapse onto the bed and pass out. Other times he didn't come back at all, catching catnaps at his desk. The other Autobots had all agreed that their leader needed a break; if he kept working at that pace he was going to land himself in Medbay again. While Magnus dragged the exhausted young Prime back to their quarters to rest, the rest of the command staff snuck into his office, locked down his computer, made off with most of the paperwork (delegating his workload seemed to be a foreign concept where Ultra Rodimus was concerned), and had Metroplex lock the door with several different locks.

"How's the boss?" Kup asked Magnus via their internal comlinks.

"Dead to the world," was the response. "Not even another Decepticon attack would wake him. He's completely out of it."

"His office has been locked down."

"Good. Thanks."

"No problem." Kup cut the link and turned back to his share of the looted files.

Magnus shut off his comlink and looked into the darkened sleeping chamber. His young mate was sprawled across the bed, barely visible even to his trained eyes, out like a light. Through their lifebond Magnus kept track of his lover's thoughts. Whenever Ultra Rodimus's mind began dragging itself back toward awareness, Magnus would gently push it back into slumber. It was a trick he'd mastered some time ago, how to get his mate to rest even when he was refusing. He didn't think Ultra Rodimus had caught onto him yet, but he wasn't about to push his luck.

Finally, after some persuasion from Magnus, Ultra Rodimus sank into a deep sleep, his lithe body taking on the limp, almost boneless position that indicated he wouldn't be waking up any time soon. Magnus smiled to himself and joined him, stretching out along his mate's back, arm around his shoulders, and followed him into slumber.

The next day Magnus got up before his mate did, which was rather unusual. Normally Ultra Rodimus was up and gone before Magnus even began to stir. The younger bot still hadn't moved, except for faint twitches of fingers or limbs as he dreamed. He was still deeply asleep, and showed no signs of waking. Magnus and Sandstorm shared a smile before the city commander crept out to take up his own duties.

It was several hours later that Jazz trotted into the command center and headed for Magnus, who was talking with Grapple and Hot Spot. Kup and a few others stood in a small clump nearby, listening. The second-in-command saw him coming and tilted his head, looking a question at him.

"Saw your mate," Jazz told him cheerfully. "He was heading for his office. I told him that he'd been locked out."

"What did he say?" Springer asked.

"He muttered something about Autobots and screwdrivers, then walked off." Jazz shrugged.

An expression of dread crossed Magnus's face as he contemplated what a sufficiently determined Autobot could do with a screwdriver. One or two other Autobots shuddered.

"I'm not sure if he actually means it, or if he even has one," Jazz added.

Kup snorted. "I know for a fact that he has whoopee cushions, silly string, and paintballs in his subspace pocket. Primus only knows what else he's got in there. He's the first Prime we've ever had who's had a streak of practical joker in him."

"That's what scares me," Magnus muttered. Another shudder ran down his back, and he thought his hydraulic fluids were trying to freeze.

"Gets you all the time, does he?"

The only response was a long-suffering sigh. Then Magnus scurried away, wondering just what his commander was up to this time.

"I don't think you have to worry about him getting back at you," Blaster called after him. "He left, heading for Vegas."

Magnus waved at him and headed out after him.

He soon found that Ultra Rodimus had driven to CSI headquarters before morphing to his human form and going inside. Magnus was too big to enter the building, but Spike offered to act as a relay for him. Keeping his comm unit on, Spike went into the building.

The CSI night shift crew was in the break room, waiting for their shift to begin, munching last-minute snacks and exchanging news. Spike poked his head in the door.

"Have any of you seen Roddy?" he asked.

Four of the five shook their heads. Grissom nodded.

"He came in looking for some michief to pull," the night shift supervisor explained. "I didn't want him to pull any tricks on my team; we're about to start our shift."

A groan came through Spike's comm. "What did you do?" Magnus demanded.

Grissom's smile was serene. "Sicced him on Ecklie."

Nick snickered.

A shriek echoed from somewhere out of sight. A moment later the dayshift supervisor came charging down the hall, trying to get an upended bucket off his head, skin, hair, and clothing turning an interesting shade of green. The culprit himself was nowhere in sight, but he could be heard laughing from wherever he was hiding. Ecklie dashed around a corner and out of sight.

For an instant, there was silence. Then everyone in the break room burst out laughing. Nick was laughing so hard he tipped his chair over. Warrick, who'd been leaning against the wall, slid down it to the floor, tears streaming from his eyes, laughing too hard to do anything about them. Sara collapsed onto the couch, roaring, and Catherine braced herself on the counter to keep from falling over. Grissom managed to keep his chair upright, but even he was paralyzed by fits of laughter. More laughter came from labs whose occupants had witnessed Ecklie's mad dash for either the exit or his office. Through one window Spike could see Greg rolling around on the floor, holding his sides, laughing hysterically. Nobody really liked the arrogant dayshift supervisor, and seeing him being taken down a few pegs by a prank was something no one would ever let him hear the end of.

Finally, the laughter died down. The CSIs began to get themselves back under control, but they still broke out in occasional fits of giggling. Spike wiped his eyes, gazing after Ecklie.

"I didn't know you could do that with armor dye," he commented.

"Armor dye?" Warrick asked.

"Makeup for Autobots. They use it when they have to disguise some of their more obvious markings, like scars or patches of color that make them easy to identify. It has to stick to metal, so it's very tenacious, but it does wear off... eventually. Roddy doesn't need it because he's a chameleon anyway; those stripes on his armor change color. I wasn't aware of that particular use for the stuff."

The tone in which he said that set them off again. It took another five minutes for them to calm down.

Just when they were starting to regain their seriousness, another Ecklie-shriek interrupted, this time coming through Spike's comm. A car door slammed, a vehicle screeched away, and Magnus almost choked on his own laughter.

"How does he _do _that?" the big Autobot managed to gasp out.

"What did he do?" Catherine asked.

"He somehow managed to rig a can of glue and a bag of feathers-- all green!-- to fall on Ecklie when he got into his car!"

"A lot of practice," a rather smug voice answered from behind Magnus. Everyone flowed outside.

Ultra Rodimus had apparently been lurking on the roof of the building, blending perfectly into the background. Now he uncoiled his slender frame and practically oozed down onto the asphault. Magnus sat at one end of the parking lot, laughing like a hyena, and Ultra Rodimus occupied the rest, stretched out on his stomach, chin on his crossed wrists. There was a pleased grin on his face.

"So that's where you disappeared to!"

The only response was a wink.

Greg bounced out of the building, chattering non-stop about how funny the tricks were and how nice it was to see Ecklie taken down a few pegs. Spike looked at Grissom.

"Is he always like this?"

Grissom nodded. Spike looked at him with sympathy, then walked over to where his ride, a snickering Sideswipe, was parked, took something out, and walked over to Greg.

"Here. Put this on."

The lab rat attached the small device to his belt. Spike activated it.

"Now go climb up on Ultra Rodimus's back."

Greg stared at him for a moment, then scurried up the Autobot leader's arm onto his armored back. Once up, he looked back at Spike.

"Get between his shoulders and start bouncing," Spike told him. "He's not going to bite you."

Greg visibly swallowed nervously. Then he crept between the huge robot's shoulders and began jumping. His shoes clanged off the metal with every jump. The device Spike had given him, a field generator, kept the shock of impact from hurting him.

Ultra Rodimus's eyes narrowed and he seemed to sprawl out even more. The CSIs looked at Spike for an explanation.

"Greg can't hurt him," Spike told them. "His armor's too hard. Your hyper lab tech may be coming down pretty hard, but through his heavy armor Roddy feels it as a gentle massage."

When Greg finally ran out of energy, he slid down Ultra Rodimus's side and went back to his lab. Ultra Rodimus peeled himself off the ground, yawned, and decided to go get some more sleep. He'd just driven away when Catherine's daughter Lindsey came out, a book in her hands.

Catherine looked over her shoulder. "Crop circles?"

"I found it at a book sale. The pictures are great." She showed her mother one of the pictures. Then she looked up at Magnus. "Do you know who makes them?"

Magnus shook his head. "Not a clue."

"Oh." Lindsey glanced aside, noticing someone walking past and staring at the designs inked into his arm. The others could almost see the light bulb come on. "Does Ultra Rodimus have any artwork?"

"Pardon?"

Lindsey pointed at the person walking past. Magnus followed her pointing finger, then shook his head. "No, he doesn't. I think he considers his stripe pattern something of that sort. Why?"

"Would he ever get some?"

The big bot snorted. "Not likely." He eyed her. "What are you suggesting?"

"Get him one, in his human form."

"Do you have any idea how hard he'd fight to avoid that?"

"What if he didn't know?"

Magnus stared at her for a moment, speechless. Then a slow grin crossed his face as he contemplated getting even with his lover for all the pranks that had been played on him. Being careful to keep his thoughts to himself, he pondered how long he'd be able to keep his mate asleep. By the time he'd finished thinking it over, he was wearing a full-fledged evil grin. He looked at Lindsey.

"You'd better find a pattern and someone to do it. I'll bring the victim."

She grinned back. "Will do."

They shook on it.

**To be continued...**

Can you figure out what's going on? Take a guess. And I did send you that email, Gromia. Welcome back, Fenestrae. Been wondering where you'd gotten to.

Next chapter: a plan comes to fruitition. Stay tuned to find out what it is! Now review for the next chapter!


	20. Branded

Author's Note: Because I have some free time on my hands right now I decided to work on the next chapter. And yes, Gromia, you're right. He is. grins

Disclaimer: He's mine and they're somebody else's. 'Nuff said.

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 18: Branded**

Around mid-morning the next day, Lindsey contacted Magnus to tell him that she'd found a tattoo artist who could reproduce the pattern she'd decided on. After making sure Ultra Rodimus wasn't eavesdropping on his thoughts and learning that Ultra Rodimus was sunbathing on a convenient rock outside, completely oblivious to anything going on around him, Magnus went to meet her.

Lindsey met him just outside CSI headquarters. She held her crop circle book in her hands, watching him pull into the parking lot. He transformed.

"What pattern did you choose?" he asked.

"This one." She turned the book toward him and pointed to one of the pictures. He leaned over to get a closer look and whistled softly.

The pattern she had chosen was a spiral design, one central circle with six curved arms radiating outward. The circles making up the arms were smallest on the ends, gradually increasing and decreasing in size. Each separate circle had one to three tiny ones next to it, curving up on the outside of the arm, and curving down on the inside. It was a very delicate and exotically beautiful design. Magnus liked it immediately.

"I like it," he told her. "But there's gotta be over a hundred separate circles in that design."

"Actually, there are four hundred and nine," she replied. "I counted."

"Can the tattoo artist do this?"

"He tried it a few times on paper and on canvas, so yes, he can. It will take a little while, though."

Magnus snorted, the blast of air blowing her hair out behind her. "Time is no problem. I can keep Ultra Roddy asleep for hours if I have to. That's how I get him to rest three-quarters of the time. I can go get him now, if you'd like."

"Sure."

The big Autobot nodded and transformed back to car carrier. As he drove back toward Metroplex he reached out to touch his lover's mind.

Fortunately for him, Ultra Rodimus was already in his human form, already drowsing in the hot sun. Magnus idly wondered if Ultra Rodimus could get a sunburn, then dismissed the thought and concentrated on slowly guiding his commander into sleep. Ultra Rodimus complied without the slightest of struggles. When Magnus arrived to get him, the young Prime was completely out like a light.

Smiling to himself, Magnus very gently scooped his mate into his palm. Ultra Rodimus curled up in his hand without even stirring. Other Autobots looked at Magnus curiously as he carried the slumbering human away from the city and transformed again, depositing Ultra Rodimus in his cab, curled up on the driver's seat. Careful to block out most of his engine noise, Magnus drove back to Vegas to pick up Lindsey, Spike, and Catherine. Lindsey rode in Magnus's cab, sitting in the passenger seat. Spike and Catherine followed in Sideswipe as Lindsey guided Magnus to the tattoo parlor.

It took an antigrav field to move the unconscious Prime from Magnus's cab into the building. Once he was settled into the chair, the field was lowered. Spike lifted Ultra Rodimus's long braid out of the way, glad the Autobot leader had chosen to go shirtless that day.

"You want it on his shoulder?" the tattoo artist asked.

"The back of his right shoulder, please."

The artist nodded and picked up the device. "I'm going to do it in gold, a different shade than his skin, outlined in red."

"Sounds good to us."

The design took several hours to complete. Everyone watched as the artist carefully inked the pattern into the golden skin over Ultra Rodimus's right shoulder blade. To Magnus's surprise, not once did Ultra Rodimus make even the weakest attempt to wake up. To him it indicated exactly how little sleep his beloved leader and mate had gotten in the last few months. Leadership was a full-time job, and if it wasn't for Magnus and Sandstorm then Ultra Rodimus would never get any sleep at all.

"There." The tattoo artist leaned back.

The spiral pattern had been reproduced perfectly. The tattoo was about the size of Spike's palm and spread fingers. The artist was about to give Magnus the list of instructions on how to take care of the tattoo until the skin healed when blue-green light began to seep through Ultra Rodimus's skin. It hid the design from view for a moment. When it faded, the tattoo looked as if it was several years old, and it had somehow gained a metallic shine, like a line drawn on the skin with metallic gel ink.

Magnus chuckled. "I guess we're not the only ones who like that pattern, Linds."

"What was that light?" Catherine asked.

"The Matrix," Spike answered.

"What's the Matrix?"

"It looks like a spherical blue diamond cut with millions of tiny facets," Magnus told her. "But it is so much more than any jewel. We don't know where it came from, but we know for a fact that it contains the wisdom of our entire race. When a Cybertronian dies their soul becomes one with the Matrix, making it stronger and adding to the knowledge stored inside. It contains great power, power only those it chooses as its bearers can harness. The essence of our god, Primus, resides inside as well."

"Personally, I think the crystal is a physical shell surrounding a sphere of pure energy," Spike added. "But no one, not even Ultra Rodimus, knows for sure. The Matrix is always carried by the Autobot leader, and is passed from predecessor to successor only at death. Ultra Rodimus carries it in a compartment in his chest, where his armor is thickest. It seems to take a very active interest in his welfare, something it's never done before."

"Where did he get it?"

"In our dimension, in the year 2005, our leader, Optimus Prime, was fatally wounded in battle. Before he died he passed it to me," Magnus explained. "Not two days later I was shot down by Galvatron and the Matrix stolen. It was recovered by a young bot named Hot Rod, who was then transformed into Rodimus Prime. Rodimus used the power of the Matrix to destroy a dark god named Unicron, the god of chaos and destruction. So Rodimus became our leader."

"Where does Ultra Rodimus fit into this?" Catherine wanted to know.

"A few months after Rodimus had become leader, the Decepticons attacked Iacon. Rodimus was targeted by Galvatron, Cyclonus, and the Sweeps. All of them shot him at the same time. He was blown almost in half." Pain filled the second-in-command's voice. "I was next to him when he died. But just before he became one with the Matrix, it and the souls within it rebuilt him and gave him a new name. Ultra Rodimus was born out of Rodimus Prime's remains."

"Oh." Catherine looked at the young Autobot. "How old is he?"

"Ultra Rodimus specifically is only about four years old. If you count all of his previous forms, he's around four and a half million Earth years old. In our terms, he's only about sixteen years old, give or take."

Spike paid for the tattoo, using some of the money Magnus had gotten from Ultra Rodimus's personal account. For some unknown reason a portion of the profits the Autobots made from selling bits of technology went directly to their leader for his own use. Ultra Rodimus, not having much use for it, had let it collect and was fairly wealthy by human standards. Then the antigravity field was used to move the still-asleep young Prime back into Magnus's cab. While Sideswipe took Lindsey, Catherine, and Spike back to CSI HO, Magnus drove back to Metroplex, carried Ultra Rodimus to their quarters, placed him on a convenient cushion, and waited for him to wake up.

Ultra Rodimus woke up wondering what had happened to the sun's warmth. Blinking, he took in his surroundings and realized that he'd been moved. Then he noticed that he wasn't alone.

Magnus sat in a chair nearby, watching him with a grin on his face and a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. That expression immediately made Ultra Rodimus suspicious. Sitting up on the cushion, he fixed his mate with a penetrating stare, which didn't seem to work. Of all the Autobots under his command, Magnus and Sandstorm seemed to have developed an immunity to his glares. That could be attributed to their close association with him.

"Okay, spill it," he demanded when his glare failed to accomplish anything. "What did you do this time?"

The older bot's smile widened. "Wouldn't you like to know."

The younger bot's glare increased in intensity and Magnus's armor began to smoke. Through their lifebond, Ultra Rodimus repeated the question. The answer didn't come in words, but in pictures, including a device with many fast-moving needles, a picture in a book, red and gold on skin...

The answer hit Ultra Rodimus like a laser blast. Glare turned to stare.

"You didn't."

Magnus's grin widened again.

Ultra Rodimus looked down at himself. "Where?" he demanded, hoping the design was a small one.

"Back of your right shoulder."

The young Prime tried to get a look at it, but he couldn't bend his neck that far. Magnus picked him up and carried him over to the mirror, holding up a smaller one to that his mate could see the reflection. Emerald eyes fixed on the pattern on the back of his shoulder.

Predictably, he exploded, but he was more angry at not being told or allowed to choose his own design if he had to get one than he was at actually getting the tattoo. Magnus let the eruption wash over him, knowing that it didn't mean much. His commander glared at him, then returned his attention to what the mirror showed, tilting his head thoughtfully.

"Actually, it doesn't look too bad," he commented.

Magnus chuckled. "I like it, and I'm not the only one. Apparently everyone in the Matrix likes it too. And speaking of the Matrix, I think Catherine would like to see it."

Ultra Rodimus shot him the evil eye. "Don't think you're getting off the hook for this."

"I won't. I know you too well. Time to find a new hiding place."

"As if you could hide from me!"

"I can try."

"You're hopeless."

"So I've been told."

**To be continued...**

I know the title of this chapter is kinda stupid, but it's all I could think up on short notice. This fic is winding down; there are only a couple of chapter left. Please update and tell me what you think.

If you want to see the pattern I chose for Ultra Rodimus's tattoo, give me your e-mail address and I'll send you a picture. The idea to give him a tattoo came from a late night, a show about tattoos, and a show about crop circles. Isn't it amazing what your brain can come up with at 4:00 in the morning?


	21. Parting Ways

Author's Note: Well, this fic is drawing to a close. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. There's only about one other chapter left after this. Sorry to have to say it, but it's almost over.

Disclaimer: I think you'd know by now, right?

**Metal and Neon**

**Chapter 19: Parting Ways**

Ultra Magnus walked into Metroplex's command center, brushing stray bits of sand off his armor. The desert sand got everywhere, especially when the winds were fairly strong. Nothing could be done to keep it out, and nobody had even bothered to try. They ignored it the way they ignored critters like cyber-scorpions.

"What's up, big guy?" Jazz trotted over to him. "Scuttlebutt has it that Roddy got inked."

"If you mean that he got a tattoo, then yes, he did. Not willingly, but he still got one."

"How did the Matrix react?"

"I'd say it liked the chosen design, and healed the skin once the tattoo was finished."

The special ops agent chuckled as more Autobots came over to ask if the rumors were true. Then Smokescreen's optics narrowed slightly, and he leaned closer to Magnus.

"What happened to your face?" the red and blue Autobot asked.

Magnus turned toward the nearest blank screen, using it as a mirror. He studied his reflection, reaching up to touch the four parallel scratches on his left cheek. They were narrow but deep, going through the first two layers of his armor. He made a mental note to get them fixed.

Turning back to the others, he smiled and said only one word. "Roddy."

_That _caused a bit of a stir to run through the crowd. Ever since Ultra Rodimus and Magnus had become an official couple, many Autobots had been wondering about their leader's "performance". Some said that since he was usually one of the more level-headed bots, he used the same approach with his work and his "skills". Others pointed out his ferocity on the battlefield, insisting that if he was that fierce when he was angry, then why should there be any difference behind closed doors? The debate had been quietly raging back and forth for years. Both Magnus and Ultra Rodimus knew about it, but neither had done anything to prove one argument or another. Sharp-eyed Autobots had never found a mark on either of them, but, considering the strength of Ultra Rodimus's armor shell, that wasn't so surprising. This was the first time anyone had ever seen signs of the pair's nocturnal activities, and they indicated that Ultra Rodimus was something of a wildcat.

"How come we never saw anything before?" someone had to ask; it sounded like Sideswipe.

"It wouldn't show because my outer armor hides it," Magnus replied blandly.

"Huh?"

"His red and blue armor is removeable," First Aid explained as he joined the crowd. "His real form looks more like a pure white Optimus, with a removeable face mask."

The proverbial light came on. Someone in the back started chuckling. The laughter slowly spread to the rest of the crowd. Then the crowd began to disperse as the chatterboxes hurried to spread the news along the grapevine.

"Spreading rumors, are we?" Ultra Rodimus joined them, carrying his helmet under one arm. His long hair was tied back in a ponytail instead of the usual braid.

"They're spreading themselves, actually," Magnus told him, pointing at the scratches on his cheek. "Not that they needed much encouragement. You got a bit carried away."

"You were asking for it," his mate informed him calmly.

Jazz bounced over. "I heard you got a tattoo. Can I see?"

The young Prime snorted and turned slightly to expose the back of his shoulder. The spiral pattern was clearly visible, red and gold against silver-grey. The red and blue stripes marking his armor stopped two fingers' width from the edge of the pattern, or curved around the top and bottom. Interrupted stripes ended there, leaving it clearly visible.

The black and white Autobot reached up to trace one of the spiral arms, then grinned widely. "It looks great."

"And I can change the color at will, same as with my stripes."

"That's a good thing. It won't compromise your camouflage." Jazz admired the skill that had gone into replicating the design. "And if you're annoyed at Mags for having it done without telling you, you could always add to it or get your ear pierced."

Ultra Rodimus shot him a look, but Jazz proved to be another of those who could withstand his glare. The smaller bot only smiled and shrugged slightly. Then he trotted away and vanished down a corridor.

"Not a bad idea," Magnus commented.

His mate's glare shifted to him. Magnus smiled, sending calm through their lifebond. After a moment Ultra Rodimus sighed and rolled his eyes.

Perceptor hurried over. "My latest readings indicate that the dimensional breach is beginning to close," he gasped out.

"Then we'd better get moving." Ultra Rodimus turned and headed out. "Call everyone in. Metroplex?"

"YES?"

"Prepare to leave."

"WILL DO, PRIME." Power began to hum through the walls as Metroplex started powering up the engines the Technobots had installed.

"Off to let everyone know we're leaving?" Magnus asked.

"Yes. I'll be back in a few minutes."

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Grissom stood outside the CSI headquarters, looking in the direction of the Autobot cities. Every Autobot in the city had abruptly left, heading back toward Metroplex and Fortress Maximus. He wondered what could have made them leave so suddenly. Then he noticed that the towers of both cities appeared to be sinking, being lowered as close to ground level as possible.

An engine rumbled. Grissom turned to see Ultra Rodimus approaching. The Autobot leader pulled over and transformed, carrying his helmet, a glitter drawing the human's eyes to the stud in the young Prime's right ear.

"I see you succumbed to your age," Nick commented as he joined his boss and lover.

Ultra Rodimus chuckled, touching his pierced ear. "Just because I'm a leader doesn't mean I can't indulge myself every now and then." He sobered. "Perceptor found that the breach that brought us here is beginning to close. If we don't leave now we'll be trapped in this dimension."

"So that's why everyone left in such a hurry," Catherine mused, climbing out of her Tahoe. "You're leaving."

"Yes. I came to say goodbye. It was a pleasure working with you."

"Likewise." Grissom offered a hand. Carefully, Ultra Rodimus shook it. "Thank you for saving our city."

The young Autobot grinned at him, then rose to his feet and transformed to his thunderbird form. The setting sun gleamed red off his feathers as he flew back toward the cities, briefly pulling up to let his wings catch and reflect the sunlight in a brilliant display of crimson and orange. Then he went into a dive and vanished.

A few minutes later, all five graveyard shift CSIs felt the ground begin to tremble underfoot. Distantly, the original group of shuttles rose into view. The trembling increased, and the steady wind carried along with it a deep, booming roar. Fortress Maximus was the first city to lift off, but Metroplex wasn't far behind. Both slowly began to follow the shuttles skyward, gaining speed as they went. The roar of their engines sounded like thunder, rattling windows with their shockwaves.

Grissom and his team watched until the shuttles were out of sight and the cities were shrinking dots in the darkening sky. Then they exchanged smiles and reentered the building.

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Ultra Rodimus stood in the middle of Metroplex's command center, his mate at his side, watching the monitors. Wisps of high-altitude clouds drifted past, and the stars were coming out in force.

"Approaching the breach," Springer reported.

On the screen, the blue-edged hole in the barrier between this dimension and their own was noticeably smaller. It looked like they'd slip through just before it closed.

"Take us in," Ultra Rodimus ordered quietly.

Metroplex shuddered slightly as he entered the breach, but his sheer size kept the twisting, writhing tunnel from shaking him too badly. Then he emerged from it, joining the shuttles and Fort Max.

"The breach has closed," Perceptor called out.

The young Prime nodded, then looked back at the monitor. "Let's go home."

**To be continued...**

Well, that's the last real chapter. All that's left is the epilogue, and I should be able to get that up tomorrow. So, now you can tell me what you think. Did you like the pattern I chose, Fenestrae? If anyone else wants to see the design I chose for the big guy's tattoo, give me your e-mail address and I'll send you the picture.


	22. Epilogue

Author's Note: And here it is, the last piece of Metal and Neon. I had fun writing this fic. I hope you enjoyed reading it. Keep an optic open for future works of fiction from yours truly, Ultra Rodimus.

Disclaimer: You know who belongs to me and who doesn't. But just because they don't belong to me doesn't mean I can't beat them up.

**Metal and Neon**

**Epilogue**

Galvatron paced his throne room, radiating so much raw fury that not even Cyclonus would come near him for fear of being taken apart circuit by circuit.

The Decepticon leader was beyond furious. Their plan to steal enough energy to destroy the Autobots had failed. They'd been followed, and the resulting battles had resulted in their complete defeat.

The results of the second, ill-planned battle had been by far more devastating than the results of the first. Several Decepticons had been killed, and far more had been severely wounded when the Autobot leader had gone berserk. Bludgeon needed extensive repairs to the circuitry and hydraulics in his neck. The head armor of Razorclaw's lion mode had to be completely replaced. Horri-Bull and Tantrum also needed armor replaced. Carnivac and Iguanus were stuck in robot mode while their outer shells, which had apparently been skinned, were repaired and while new skin was added. And as if that wasn't bad enough, Fangry's wings and some of his fur, Flamefeather's head armor, the wing covers of three of the Insecticons, Pounce's puma mode's head armor, Divebomb's eagle wings, Headstrong's rhino horns, Birdbrain's shell's wings, all of Ravage's outer armor, Snarler's shell's tusks, Stranglehold's rhino mode's horn, Skullcruncher's alligator jaws, Weirdwolf's wolf mode's head armor, and Wingspan's hawk wings had been taken, all without damaging a single circuit. Whoever had done it, and Galvatron suspected that it had been Ultra Rodimus, had pried off the armor without so much as nicking a circuit casing. It would take time for the armor to be replaced; there were so many serious injuries that armor replacement was at the bottom of the medics' priority list.

The purple Decepticon ground his teeth in rage, too furious to make a sound. His optics blazed with hatred and rage. Privately, he vowed to one day hang the Autobot leader's head on his wall.

He spun toward the windows, staring toward Cybertron, and began thinking of his next encounter with his enemy.

**Fin.**

And this is it. Sorry, folks, but it's all finished. Nothing you say is gonna get me to add anything else. Now please review and tell me what you thought of this fic. I look forward to hearing from you.

This is the longest fic I've ever written. I didn't think I'd have this many ideas for it, and I was quite surprised to see how long this one turned out. Now I'm going to go soak my aching fingers so I can work on Past and Future again later.


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